


The Banter'verse

by GoldenUsagi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blasphemy, Companionable Snark, Gen, Humor, M/M, Season/Series 05, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-20 07:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 31,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3642564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenUsagi/pseuds/GoldenUsagi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Apocalypse is stopped by the boys bantering and having awesome plans. Imaginary S5 after Abandon All Hope. Gabriel decides to join Team Free Will. Dean is the righteous man, Castiel is puzzled by strange human ways, and Sam is getting his bitchface on. But with the four of them, the Apocalypse doesn't stand a chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Note 1: Yes, I have tagged this as both 'gen' and 'slash.' This is a series, written over months, and it started as gen/pre-slash, and for the most part remains so until the last few chapters. However, if you are looking for 100% gen, you might not like all of this. At the same time, if you're wanting to read about a romantic relationship between Dean and Cas, you won't find that here, either. If anything, I would have to categorize this as in-the-background pre-slash that becomes not-really-dwelt-on slash by the last few parts. Due to the format of this series, romance was never really the focus, but that dynamic is is there, though it takes the characters a while to get there.
> 
> Note 2: This was originally written and posted on LJ specifically for the team_free_love comm, which required stories with an equal focus on Dean, Sam, Cas, and Gabriel. I knocked off a quick little humor fic that mainly consisted of them snarking at each other, and was surprised by the positive response I got. Sequels were done after that, and I realized I had ideas for ways to actually make this into an alternate S5 where the boys had Gabriel's help. The S5 section was all written in order, except for the Prelude, which I went back and wrote later to account for how Gabriel offered his assistance. The parts after S5 were more or less written in order, but are all unrelated one shots. This was posted as a verse on LJ, not as a chaptered fic, as most stories stood by themselves. However, for ease of reading and downloading, here I have uploaded the verse as one fic, with the stories as chapters. And finally, since I ended up naming this the Banter'verse because each part consists of mostly snarky dialogue, I made it a point to begin and end each chapter with a line of dialogue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabriel proposes joining TFW, in his own special way

“So, I’ve been thinking.”

“Holy crap!” Dean was off the bed in an instant as Gabriel materialized in the middle of the room.

He had the knife from under his pillow slicing across his palm before he thought twice about it, had half a banishment sigil painted on the wall before he was literally frozen in place.

“I know you two have trust issues, but _come on_ ,” Gabriel said. “Is it always shoot first, ask questions later?”

“With you, yes,” Sam said.

The sigil disappeared from the wall, and Dean’s hand was no longer cut. “Hey!” he snapped.

“Yeah, don’t thank me for stopping you from bleeding all over this lovely shag carpet.” Gabriel stepped in front of Dean.

Dean managed to see Sam out of his peripheral vision, similarly frozen with a jug of holy oil in his hand. Gabriel glanced in his direction.

“And you wanted to talk to me so much last time, Sam.”

“That was a mistake.”

“No, the mistake was letting me out of the holy oil.”

“We did let you out!” Dean said.

“You also put me in. It’s not like you were just being a Good Samaritan.” Then Gabriel frowned. “Hm, that sounded way more menacing than I planned.” He waved his hand. “Look, I’m just saying—trapping angels really pisses them off. _I_ wouldn’t let them go. Not all of them have my sense of fairness.”

“Fairness my ass.”

“If I had really wanted to do something to you, don’t you think I would have done it then?”

“Maybe you’re here to do it now,” Sam said.

Gabriel sighed. He snapped his fingers and deposited Sam and Dean to sit on their respective beds. Still frozen.

“I told you, I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” Dean asked.

“Helping with your pathetic and probably hopeless little crusade.”

There was silence.

“Really?” Sam asked.

“If we’re so hopeless, why bother?” Dean asked.

Gabriel smirked. “Because with me, you wouldn’t be.”

“Well, don’t you have a high opinion of yourself?”

“Comes with the territory.”

“Yeah, I think we’ll pass,” Dean said.

“So you wanted my help when you thought I was a trickster, but now that you know I’m one of the four most powerful beings in Creation, you’re going to pass. Uh-huh.” Gabriel spread his arms, addressing the empty room. “And these are the two yahoos that the fate of the world depends on.”

“The fact that you’re an angel isn’t exactly a point in your favor.”

“Why do you care now?” Sam asked.

“I don’t,” Gabriel said.

“No, you’re gonna have to come up with a better answer than that,” Dean said.

“Self-preservation,” Sam guessed.

“ _No_ ,” Gabriel said, glaring at him. “All I have to do is sit back and do nothing, and I’ll still be me at the end of this, boys. No matter who wins.”

“Then what?”

“I’ve been to Heaven. It’s really not that great. And I don’t think I’d actually like Hell. But Earth is fun. There’s a reason it was Dad’s favorite. And after considering it, I like things here the way they are.”

“You’ve sure changed your tune. What happened to playing our roles?” Dean gave Gabriel a hard stare. “How do we know this isn’t a trap?”

“Guess you just have to trust me.”

“Trust you while I can’t move.”

“Oh, relax. I just wanted to make sure you’d hear me out.” Gabriel sighed dramatically and snapped. “There. Better?”

“Call Castiel,” Sam said.

“Yeah, because what I need is for your guardian angel to show up and stab me in the back.”

Dean was already reaching for his phone. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of little old Cas?”

“Nope. I’m expecting him, for one. But I’ve gathered that ‘little old Cas’ has gotten a reputation these days for doing nothing but searching for God and killing other angels.”

Dean smirked and stood up. “You’re sure paranoid for an archangel.”

“I’m in witness protection.”

“I’ll tell Cas everything’s fine.”

“For all I know, ‘everything’s fine’ is your code word for him to show up and start slashing,” Gabriel muttered.

“Dean and Castiel never set up code words,” Sam said. “I told them they should.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

Gabriel shook his head. “It’s a wonder you two have managed to remain uninhabited for so long. All it takes is one angel calling you and putting on a voice, y’know.”

Dean pushed a button. “Cas?”

Gabriel grinned. “Aw, you have him on speed dial.”

Dean glared at Gabriel as he finished telling Castiel their location.

Castiel appeared in the room a second later.

His face registered surprise at Gabriel’s presence, but otherwise he didn’t react.

“Gabriel wants to help us,” Dean said.

“I see,” Castiel said.

“Is he telling the truth?”

“I cannot read the mind of a superior.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t.” Castiel looked at Gabriel. Gabriel looked back.

Castiel might not be able to read Gabriel’s mind, but they were doing some sort of freaky angel staring thing.

“I believe Gabriel is sincere,” Castiel announced. “What assistance are you offering?”

“See?” Gabriel said. “He gets right to the point.”

“Well?” Sam said. “What are you offering? Going to help us kill Lucifer?”

“I’m not sure I’m that committed. We’ll see. As for what I’m offering now—information, know-how, and running interference with any angelic types who track you down. Bottom line is—as long as you stay you, the Apocalypse doesn’t happen.”

“How did you find them?” Castiel asked.

“Same way I found them last time.” Gabriel looked at Dean. “Let me guess, you were here hunting something?”

“Just your average haunting.”

“But it _sounded_ really crazy when you heard about it, didn’t it?” Gabriel smiled. “I had to get your attention. And once you hit town, I just looked for your car. You do realize it’s kind of distinctive, right?”

“You set us up?”

“The haunting was already there. I just played the telephone game. Which brings me to something else—don’t expect me to be saving you from ghosts and demons.”

“We don’t need you to save us!” Dean said.

“We can kill ghosts and demons just fine,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I got the memo on that,” Gabriel said. “Nice job with Lilith.”

“ _You_ could have warned me about that at the Mystery Spot if you didn’t want the Apocalypse to happen.”

“You didn’t listen to anything else I had to say then.”

“What is a mystery spot?” Castiel asked.

“A place where the laws of physics _have no meaning_ ,” Gabriel said in a theatrical voice.

“Why do I get the feeling the laws of physics never have meaning for you?” Dean said.

“They’re really inconvenient,” Gabriel agreed. “It’s much easier not to bother with them.” He clapped his hands together. “So, I guess I’ll be seeing you.”

“So, just to clarify, you’re actually going to help us,” Sam said.

“Yes, already. Geez, do you want it in blood?” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “If the Apocalypse comes, beep me.”

“How _do_ we get a hold of you?” Dean asked.

“I’ll find you.”

“How?”

“I have ways,” Gabriel said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Look, I’ll be around. I’ll pop in occasionally. It’ll be great—we’ll hang out, catch up on Apocalypse gossip, trade monster stories—”

“We’re not your friends.”

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam hissed. “We need his help.”

“Good, because angels don’t have human friends,” Gabriel countered.

“I do,” Castiel said.

Gabriel made a long-suffering look. Then he gave Dean a level stare. “If you want me to help stop the Apocalypse, you have to deal with me. I’m not at your beck and call, and I’m not your disposable weapon.” He glanced at Castiel.

“Cas is not our disposable weapon!” Dean said.

“Could have fooled me. You say jump, he asks how high.”

“Castiel’s our friend,” Sam said.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “And it goes both ways.”

“Oh, does it, now?”

“Dean agreed to be my ‘bullet shield’ while confronting Raphael.”

“Huh,” Gabriel said. “Maybe I was wrong. Look, all I’m saying is that a little camaraderie never hurt anyone. You’ve got Team Heaven and Team Hell, and us.”

“Team Earth,” Castiel said.

“That’s so lame, bro.”

“Team Winchester,” Sam suggested.

“Conceited much?”

“Well, you think of a name, then.”

“We don’t need a name,” Dean snapped.

“You have to have a cool name,” Gabriel said. “The winners always have cool names.”

“How about Team Shove It, Michael?” Dean said.

Gabriel grinned. “We’re getting closer.”

“Team Screw Destiny,” Sam said.

Dean looked thoughtful. “Team Free Will.”

“Free will is mankind’s greatest gift,” Castiel said.

“Not bad,” Sam agreed.

“And we have a keeper!” Gabriel said. “Does anyone else want matching T-shirts?”


	2. Secrets of the Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which research is not really accomplished. Why a meteor will never hit Earth, and why Jesus won’t stop the Apocalypse.

“Hey, Dean, did you know a meteor might hit Earth in 2014?”

“Nope.”

Sam pointed to his laptop screen. “It could be a major event.”

“We have bigger things to worry about than a hunk of space rock,” he said, not moving from the couch. “Especially when the planet might not even make it that long.”

“The planet would still be here,” Castiel said. “Humanity would not.”

Dean made a face. “Thanks, Cas.”

“The meteors are irrelevant. A meteor of any size will never hit Earth.”

“And how do you know?” Dean asked, turning to look over the back of the couch.

Castiel set his book on the table. “The universe is not so poorly designed.”

“But it’s happened before,” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah, the dinosaurs,” Gabriel said, appearing out of nowhere. “That was fun.”

“Extinction is fun?”

Gabriel shrugged. “They had it coming. Trust me.”

Sam looked back across the table at Castiel. “But it _did_ happen.”

“My Father would not put his greatest creation in the path of such destruction.”

“But eventually, something _will_ hit us. It’s statistics.”

Castiel shook his head. “Anything that poses a substantial threat to the well-being of the planet is dealt with.”

“Dealt with?” Dean asked. 

“By the archangels,” Castiel said.

All eyes turned to look at Gabriel, who was reclining on one of the beds.

“What?” he said.

“Is that true?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be? Not like we have a lot to do up there.”

“So have you?”

“I diverted a few things. Back in the day. Michael does most of it, though.”

“You saved the planet?” Dean asked. “Why do I not believe you?”

Gabriel opened a chocolate bar. “Calling angels liars makes baby Jesus cry.”

“I bet he’s bawling his head off, then, considering that most angels actually are lying dicks.”

“Probably,” Gabriel said, taking a bite. “He was never down with the whole Heaven crowd.”

“Wait,” Sam said. “Wait. You mean there’s actually a Jesus who’s out there somewhere? On Earth?”

“Yep. Ran into him a couple of times.”

“How did he manage to ditch Heaven?” Sam asked.

“Jesus does what he wants. It’s one of the perks of being Jesus.”

“But this is great,” Sam said. “He could help us. Castiel has been looking for God, but maybe—”

“Forget it. Jesus doesn’t fight. It’s a thing. Too bad, though. He’d be a great ally. No matter how many times you kill him, he just comes back to life.”

“Okay, this entire conversation is above my pay grade,” Dean said. “Can we get back to looking up things that might actually help us?”

Sam, however, was unwilling to let the previous topic drop. “Cas, have you been to space?”

“Of course.” He said it like it was obvious.

“Like that?” Sam asked, making a vague gesture at Castiel.

Castiel tilted his head. “In space, we need no vessels.”

“I miss space,” Gabriel said thoughtfully.

“Seriously?”

“I’m undercover, Sam. Going full archangel in a vacuum would draw attention, don’t you think? But space is great. Lots of… space.” He shifted on the bed. “There’s just not room to stretch in these things, y’know?”

“Okay,” Dean said, “we’re _not_ talking about the poor guy you’re wearing.”

“Relax. He had it coming.”

“Right.”

“Hey, why don’t you pick on Castiel over there? He took a perfectly devout family man and got him killed.”

Dean glanced at Castiel, who suddenly looked like someone had kicked his puppy.

“We’re not picking on Cas.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

There was a moment of silence as Dean and Castiel went back to their books, and Sam looked back at his laptop.

Then Sam turned around again.

“So how exactly did the dinosaurs have it coming?”


	3. Your Personal Archangel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone abuses Gabriel’s powers, including Gabriel.

“So how exactly did the dinosaurs have it coming?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

Gabriel took another bite of chocolate.

“You can’t just throw something like that out there and then not explain it.”

“Dude,” Dean said. “Now you’ve gone and done it. That’s Sam’s grouchy geek bitchface.”

“Shut up, Dean.”

Gabriel pointed his chocolate bar at Sam. “The dinosaurs will have to remain a mystery.”

Sam scowled.

“I believe he’s only doing it to annoy you, Sam,” Castiel said.

“Have to get my kicks somehow. Since you chuckleheads vetoed prank wars.”

“The prank war was not enjoyable,” Castiel replied, with slight shudder.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have a sense of humor.”

“Sam has a sense of humor. Yet I do not believe he enjoyed only being able to speak ancient Hebrew.”

Dean snorted. “That was fucking hilarious.”

“All I said was that I _wished_ I could speak Hebrew. So I could look at some texts. And I did _not_ want to start doing it in the middle of McDonald’s.”

Dean was laughing out loud now. “The cashier thought you were nuts.”

“It sounded like English to me!”

“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist. Cas translated, didn’t he?”

Sam pointedly looked back at his laptop. “Never mind.” He scowled again. Then he glared at Gabriel. “I’m interested in dinosaurs, okay?”

“What aren’t you interested in?” Dean muttered.

“Exactly,” Gabriel said. “See, I feel used. You only like me for my vast encyclopedic knowledge of space and time.”

“I appreciate the considerable force you bring to our cause,” Castiel said.

“And the free cable,” Dean added.

“I do not,” Sam said. “It’s just, you know, interesting.”

“Uh-huh. We already played an interesting game of twenty questions when you got drunk, remember? ‘Gabriel, what really happened to Amelia Earhart? Gabriel, how did they build Stonehenge? Gabriel, who shot JFK? Gabriel, what extinct animal do we not know about?’”

“Not like I can tell anyone.” Sam looked sulky. “‘How do I know? Oh, an angel told me. Gabriel, actually. He’s back at the motel, wanna meet him?’ Then _I_ look crazy.”

“And that’s the beauty of it.” Gabriel started another chocolate bar. “Relax, Sammy. If you’re good, maybe I’ll tell you sometime.”

Sam’s curiosity got the better of him, and he bit his tongue about the ‘Sammy.’

It was silent for another few moments.

Then Dean turned to look at Gabriel. “What do you mean Cas got someone killed?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Duh. The owner of that body.”

“Jimmy?”

“I guess.” He glanced at Castiel. “That him?”

Castiel shifted. “Yes. Jimmy is… no longer with me.”

“Dude, so you’re alone in there?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“Huh…” Dean suddenly looked thoughtful. He absently put his pen in his mouth.

“How’d you manage that, anyway?” Gabriel asked. “I can tell by looking that it’s just you, but you shouldn’t be able to do that.”

“It was after Raphael. I came back alone.”

“After Raphael?”

“Cas got smote,” Dean said. “God brought him back.”

Gabriel threw his hands up. “And no one thought this was relevant information to tell me?”

Sam and Dean shared a look and shrugged at the same time. “Not really.” “No.”

“How is coming back to life not something you mention?”

“We’ve all done it,” Sam said.

“Besides, that’s Cas’ business.”

“Right. Fine. Don’t tell the archangel that Dad is personally resurrecting again.” Gabriel crossed his arms and sank further into the bed.

The others went back to researching.

Gabriel, bored, broke the silence a few minutes later.

“I suppose I could tell you about the robot head I left on the moon.”

“And why did you do that?” Sam asked.

“It adds ambiance.”

Dean, meanwhile, was looking at Castiel again.

“So that body’s totally yours now?”

“It is.”

“Huh,” Dean said again.

Castiel looked confused. “Is there something you want, Dean?”

“ _There’s_ the double entendre of the century,” Gabriel said.

“I don’t understand—”

“Never mind,” Dean interrupted.

“What is a double entendre?”

“It means saying one thing but meaning another,” Gabriel said.

Castiel looked even more confused. “Why would I do that? Words are limiting enough.”

“Exactly,” Dean cut in again. “And I said we’re not picking on Cas.”

“We’re picking on you, actually.”

“Gabriel, please don’t pick on Dean.”

“Can everyone please be quiet?” Sam snapped. “I’m trying to read this.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Gabriel said. “If we’re not talking about what _you_ want to talk about, then we can’t talk at all.” Then he sat up. “I’m going to that dessert shop in France.”

“You just got here. Why don’t you snap something up?” Sam said.

“It’s not the same,” Gabriel complained.

“Could you swing by Italy?” Dean asked. “I could go for pizza.”

“Sure, why not?” 

Gabriel disappeared.

“Dean,” Sam said. “He’s a freaking archangel. You shouldn’t treat him like a delivery boy.”

“You treat him like your own personal Wikipedia.”

“He knows stuff! What’s wrong with asking?”

“Cas knows stuff. You never ask him.”

“That’s because Cas says things like, ‘I don’t see how extinct species are relevant to the matter at hand.’”

“Well, I don’t,” Castiel said.

“And Gabriel’s been on Earth a long time, Dean. Castiel barely pays attention to what happens here unless it’s the end of the world.”

Castiel nodded. “Also true. Gabriel is much more informed about human affairs.”

Dean glanced at Sam. “Whatever, dude. Italy pizza rocks.”

There was a pause before Dean turned to Castiel.

“So I guess if Jimmy’s not there, you don’t have to worry about giving the body back.”

“I suppose not.”

“You could stick around after this is over, then. We’ll show you what’s awesome about Earth. You know, what things are like when you’re not fighting Satan.”

Castiel didn’t say anything.

“I mean, if you want,” Dean said.

Castiel looked at Dean thoughtfully. “I would like that. Very much.”

They were still staring when Gabriel reappeared, pastry bag in one hand, pizza box in the other. He looked back and forth between Dean and Castiel.

Gabriel smirked and cleared his throat. “Am I interrupting a Kodak moment?”

Dean looked away.

“You know what they say about taking pictures and lasting longer,” Gabriel continued, handing Dean the pizza. “Something to keep in mind next time Castiel is staring at you. Considering that angels actually _can_ incinerate you with their gaze.”

Dean suddenly looked uncomfortable. Castiel glared sharply at Gabriel, who shrugged.

“I’m just saying.”


	4. Angel Network

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabriel makes use of technology while the hunt for Lucifer is on hold.

“You shouldn’t have run that stop sign.”

Dean tried not to jump at Gabriel’s unexpected appearance in the backseat. He failed, and the car visibly swerved.

Sam turned around. “Don’t tell me disobeying traffic laws is a smiteable offense?”

“Only if I’m really bored. But I’m not lethal about it. Usually I just break something on their car.”

Dean glared into the rearview mirror. “You mess with the Impala, it’ll be the last thing you ever do. And how the hell do you keep finding us, anyway?” He glanced over his shoulder at Castiel, who was sitting behind Sam. “Something blinking out with your little art project?”

“The sigils are permanent. And fully functional.”

“Those sigils are good to go,” Gabriel confirmed. “If I wasn’t looking right at you, I wouldn’t even know you were there.” He looked at Castiel. “What did you do, anyway?”

“Carved Enochian into bone.”

Gabriel whistled. “Nice.”

“I’m turning into a freaking angel paint-by-numbers,” Dean muttered.

“Yeah? What else you got on you?” Gabriel asked.

“None of your business.”

“In Castiel’s defense, he did re-hymenate you before he started messing you up again,” Sam said.

Gabriel snickered.

“Anyway,” Dean said. “How _are_ you finding us?”

“I’m tracking the GPS on your phone. It’s not that hard.”

Sam looked at Dean, opened his mouth, and then closed it again. “Does this mean that any angel can find us at any time?” he finally got out.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Please. Angels never figured out the twenty-first century. I mean, look at Castiel. He’s more human right now than any of them, and he can barely work his own phone.”

“Technology is frustrating.”

“Technology is _limited_ ,” Gabriel said. “And for anyone who’s not limited, it won’t occur to them to even consider using it.”

“Except you,” Sam said.

“I’m slumming.”

“So where the hell have you been?” Dean asked.

“Is that any way to talk to the archangel on your shoulder? And I’m just along for the ride, bucko. This is still your crusade.”

“I’m sure you’ve been doing something real worthwhile in the mean time.”

“My new game is accepting rides from strangers.”

“Seriously?” Dean snorted. “You? Hitchhiking?”

“It’s great. Only crazy people pick up hitchhikers anymore. The harmless crazies are fun to talk to, and the psychotic crazies are fun to punish. It’s win win.”

“Perfect,” Dean said. “So you’ve been off messing with people when you said you’d help stop the Apocalypse. You hung around for a week and then vanished.”

“Hey, last I heard, you two were checking yourself into some mental hospital. It’s like you forgot you were supposed to be fighting Lucifer.”

“It was a case.”

“And we’re kind of out of ideas right now,” Sam said.

“Ditto,” Gabriel replied. “If stopping my brother was easy, everyone would be doing it.”

“And then we were cursed with a body switch. So that took some time.”

“ _You_ were cursed with a body switch,” Dean said.

“Well, it shouldn’t have taken _you_ that long to figure out that guy wasn’t me!”

Dean shrugged. “I thought the Apocalypse had gotten to you and you’d finally snapped.”

“And where were you during all this?” Gabriel asked Castiel.

“I was searching for God,” he said solemnly. “I did not find Him.”

“Shocker.” Gabriel paused. “Maybe I should have come along the first time. Mental hospitals can be fun.”

“You really shouldn’t play jokes on the mentally impaired,” Sam said, making what Dean called his ‘politically correct’ bitchface.

“Oh, I don’t. I mess with the staff. I also fuck with the people who steal money from residents at the old folks’ home. Who would have guessed that _60 Minutes_ would be a great inspiration? And believe me, you don’t want to end up in my version of _To Catch a Predator_. The fun part is, I can actually look like a thirteen-year-old girl.”

“Yeah, we’re not going there,” Dean said.

It was silent for a minute. Which was also annoying. The radio tended to fizzle out when Gabriel was around.

“Now this is just sad,” Gabriel said, playing with a phone that he hadn’t been holding a second ago. “You only have two contacts.”

Castiel realized Gabriel had his phone. He reached for it on instinct.

Gabriel caught his wrist without looking, still flipping through the phone’s contents with his other hand. “Juuuust a minute.” Then he shook his head. “What sort of awful plan are you on?”

“His phone is fine,” Sam said. “I set it up for him.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “A Nokia, Sam? Really?”

“There’s nothing wrong with Nokias.”

“Sure.”

“So what do _you_ have?”

“An iPhone,” he said smugly.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with the plan,” Sam huffed.

“Then why is he always running out of minutes?” Gabriel continued, talking about Castiel like he wasn’t even there.

“Are you kidding? He’s got more than enough. All the conversations we’ve had have lasted about ten seconds. Who’s he talking to?”

There was a moment of silence as they came to the obvious answer.

“I speak to Dean sometimes,” Castiel said.

“You speak to Dean _a lot_ ,” Gabriel said, scrolling through the call history.

“When have you been talking to Cas?” Sam asked. “I never hear you talking to Cas for that long.”

“What, I can’t talk to people now?” Dean asked, not looking away from the road.

“What do you talk about?”

“Stuff,” he said gruffly.

“Cas?” Sam asked, looking behind him.

Castiel merely stared at Sam with his innocent, bewildered angel expression. “Dean is my friend. Why shouldn’t I talk to him?”

“I’m your friend and we never talk.”

“Do you wish to talk?”

“No—that is, I—never mind.”

“May I have my phone back?”

“Just a minute.”

“He’s probably putting a virus on it,” Dean said.

“Oh, please. That’s so uncreative it’s beneath me. Besides, we’re all on the same side, right? Go team. Here, Sam, switch places with me.”

Sam didn’t have time to blink before he was sitting in the backseat and Gabriel was in the front.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked.

“Riding shotgun.” He continued to fiddle with Castiel’s phone.

Dean, deciding it wasn’t a battle worth fighting, pointedly stared back at the road.

A moment later, Gabriel tossed the phone back to Castiel. Then he reclined in the seat, putting his hands behind his head. “So, boys, where to now?”

Castiel was looking at his phone.

Sam leaned over to see, and then he snickered.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Gabriel took a picture for Cas’ background.”

“So? Of what?”

“Nothing,” Sam said, in the voice that clearly meant ‘something.’

“Remember what I said about taking pictures and lasting longer?” Gabriel asked.

It took Dean a second to put two and two together. “Change it back,” he growled.

“It’s definitely your good side, Dean,” Sam said, laughing.

“Cas, change it back.”

“I don’t know how,” Castiel said.

“Sam!”

“Your problem, dude, not mine.”

“Why is it a problem?” Castiel asked. “I prefer Dean to the hot air balloon. Why are you upset, Dean?”

Dean spared a glance over his shoulder. Castiel was staring at him, quietly concerned.

“Whatever, dude.” He turned around. “Keep it, who cares?”

“See, isn’t this fun?” Gabriel said. “We should road trip together more often.” He leaned farther back in the seat.

Dean glared at him. “You put your feet on my dashboard, you’re a dead man.”


	5. Time Is Fluid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the resident archangel is only mildly helpful with time travel.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

Dean realized three things at once. One, it was 2010 again, two, Sam was standing next to him, and three, Gabriel was reclining in the corner chair.

“Dean,” Sam said. “How did we—”

“Michael.”

“Michael?” Gabriel repeated, standing up.

“The hell have you been?” Dean demanded.

“Why are you always asking me that? So Michael also took a little trip to the past, and he personally sent you back here?”

“Yes.”

“Then we need to vamoose. Now.” Gabriel snapped his fingers, and the motel room was instantly replaced with another.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“I just moved us a few states over. Don’t thank me or anything.”

“How’s Cas going to find us? And what about my car?”

“You left him there?”

“Hey, not like we had a choice,” Dean said. “We were zapped back against our will, remember?”

“Yeah, and Michael’s gonna realize you didn’t get to 1978 on your own, hot shot. And then you’re going to be down one angelic BFF.”

Dean flashed back to what Michael had done to Anna.

That’s when he noticed Gabriel doing an eerie imitation of Castiel’s penetrating stare, and Dean had the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that Gabriel was reading his mind.

“Honeymoon suite, huh?” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. “Relax. Be right back.”

Then he vanished.

Sam, who had moved to look out the window, turned to Dean and pulled the curtain aside. “Dude, we’re in Vegas.”

“Why Vegas?”

“Why not Vegas?” Gabriel asked, like he never left.

Castiel was lying on the bed behind him, still dead to the world.

Gabriel tilted his head, looking down at the other angel. He prodded Castiel’s chest. Then he did it again.

“Dude, stop poking him,” Dean said.

“I’ve never actually seen a comatose angel,” Gabriel said. “It’s interesting.” 

“Big deal. He’s unconscious.”

“We don’t ‘do’ unconscious. This shouldn’t happen.”

“Angels haven’t been cut off from Heaven before?” Sam asked.

“Oh, sure.” Gabriel nodded. “But then they’re disintegrated on the spot.” He picked up Castiel’s arm and let it drop.

“Will you stop?” Dean said, pulling Gabriel away.

Gabriel let him, still looking around Dean to Castiel. “He’s limited to the vessel. Or something.”

“Yeah, well, if you’d been around, we would have been spared a visit from Michael. Not to mention _Uriel_.”

“Hey, I brought your pet angel back before he could be flash fried.”

“Yeah. You were waiting for us.” Dean narrowed his eyes. “And how exactly did you know something was up?”

“I’m wounded.” Gabriel put a hand to his chest and flopped dramatically in a chair. “Castiel called me, remember?”

“So why didn’t you come?” Sam asked.

“That’s what she said,” Gabriel quoted.

Sam made a face. “You watch _way_ too much TV.”

“And you’re only now figuring this out?” Gabriel shrugged. “My phone was off. I was busy. I do have a life, unlike _some_ people. Though you should check out the voicemail Castiel left. It’s completely hilarious. I’ve got it on here somewhere…” he trailed off, pulling out his phone.

Dean snatched it from him. “Gimme that.” He punched in his own number, waiting for his phone to ring before he stopped the call. “More than one of us needs to have this,” he said, saving the number.

“Hey, that number is on a need-to-know basis.”

“Yeah. And we need to know.”

“I thought we agreed we didn’t want me around 24/7,” Gabriel said wryly.

“We don’t. In fact, this is even better. Now you don’t need to pop in at all.”

“You could pop in sometimes.”

“Sam,” Dean said.

“See, Sam likes me.”

“That’s cause Sam wants you to spill the secrets of the universe.”

Castiel groaned.

“Well, you need to at least get him to stop calling me,” Gabriel said, gesturing to the bed. “Especially for tips on the God hunt. I don’t need you yahoos bothering me with every little thing.”

“Believe me,” Dean said, “if I call you, it’ll be life or death.”

Gabriel pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Guess I should keep the phone on vibrate, then.”

“This is wrong.” Castiel said.

Dean leaned over the bed. “Hey, you’re back. We’re all back.”

Castiel turned his head. “Gabriel.”

“Hey, bro. You look like shit.”

“Anna?” he asked.

“Michael burned her up,” Dean said.

“Mike always did like the light show. Most of the time, we just use the Archangel Snap of Doom.”

“Which is?”

“I think Castiel knows,” Gabriel said.

“It is… unpleasant.”

“Chunky soup unpleasant, I’m guessing,” Sam said.

“Vessel and Grace destroyed at once,” Gabriel confirmed.

Dean glared at him. “Gee, if only we knew someone who could have iced Anna before she flew back in time to kill our parents.”

“All right, already.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You’re like a dog with a bone. If it was so important, you should have waited for me.”

“We had to leave,” Sam said. “Anna was already gone.”

“Yes. Into the _past_. Which means she’s already always been there.”

Sam gave him a confused stare.

“It wouldn’t matter if you left now, or two weeks from now, as long as you did it.”

“But if she killed them, how could I go back later?”

“If she actually managed to kill them, you would have stopped existing. You wouldn’t have been there to go back.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

Gabriel gave him an irritated look. “Are you going to argue about time travel with _me_? Seriously?” He held up his hand. “You want a practical demonstration?”

“No! No, uh, that’s okay.”

“Anyway, I was totally going to come get you if you didn’t come back.”

“Huh,” Dean said. “It’s only ten minutes since we left.”

“Michael’s efficient that way.”

“Hey, why aren’t you cut off?” Sam asked. “You left Heaven. Shouldn’t you be having migraines and nosebleeds?”

“Benefit of being one of the original four. You can take the archangel out of Heaven, but…” He waved a hand.

“Archangels are Grace and fire,” Castiel said, his voice still more gravelly than usual. “They cannot be dimmed. They’re absolute glory and burning righteousness.”

Gabriel stood. “Good for you that I’m not so righteous these days. I used to unmake disobedient angels, y’know.”

Castiel met his gaze. “You’re righteous. You’ve chosen humanity’s side. What our Father would want.”

Gabriel suddenly looked annoyed. “I’m going gambling,” he announced. “I’ll be back when Castiel stops leaking blood and sentiment. C’mon, Sam, I’m feeling lucky.”

“Yeah, I don’t actually think it’s called ‘gambling’ when you have reality altering powers,” Sam said.

“Well, I’m feeling lucky that I have reality altering powers.”

“Dean?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll stay here.”

“I should be able to leave soon,” Castiel said.

“You’re not flying until you can walk.”

“You try to drive when you can’t walk,” Sam muttered.

“That’s _different_!” Dean called, as the door shut behind them. “And what about my car, Gabriel?”


	6. Heaven and Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Winchesters visit Heaven, and Crowley appears (obviously not in Heaven).

“Gabriel, I need you.”

“You should try saying that to Dean sometime,” Gabriel said into his phone. “You might even like what happens next.”

“Something has happened,” Castiel continued. “Dean and Sam have been killed.”

“Well, I guess this puts an end to our little Apocalypse rebellion.”

“I doubt Heaven will allow them to remain dead.”

“Probably not. They should be getting frequent flyer miles at this point.”

“This isn’t funny, Gabriel.”

“Okay, okay. Hold on, I’ll call you right back.” Gabriel hung up, and pulled up another screen on his phone. Looked like Dean’s GPS was still up and running. He relocated to the motel room half a world away, and then called Castiel back. “Okay, come and find me.”

An instant later, Castiel was in the room beside him. They both looked at the bloody Winchesters on their respective beds.

Castiel looked like his world had shattered just a little bit.

“It’s not like he’s not coming back,” Gabriel offered.

“Their time in Heaven will not be pleasant.” Castiel fixed him with a stare. “You could go get him.”

“I could,” he said carelessly.

“Go get him,” Castiel demanded, getting into Gabriel’s space and staring him down.

“No.”

“What good are you, then? What have you done?”

The next instant, Castiel was flung across the room and into the opposing wall.

“Hey, I helped with your little zombie problem last week.”

“You’re a coward,” Castiel hissed.

“Shut up while you still can,” Gabriel said calmly. “Yeah, I could go get them. If we want to tip our hand to Michael and the whole Host. I’m good, but I’m really not up for bringing all of Heaven down on us.” He waved his hand and Castiel fell to the floor. “You said yourself that they’d be back. How’d you find out so quickly, anyway?”

“Their souls’ ascension is news. I listen to the Host’s voices.” Castiel stood.

“Yeah, I can’t do that so much. They tend to notice me. But I bet they barely realize that you’re there at all these days.” He gave Castiel a smug look. “So you’re staying, I take it?”

“Yes.”

“Great. I’ve got an errand to run.”

“What?”

Gabriel grinned with mock innocence. “Someone _did_ shoot them. That’s just desserts, wouldn’t you say?” He raised his eyebrows. “What? It’s what I do.”

\-----

Dean called Gabriel as soon as they were alive again, putting it on speakerphone as he drove. “Where are you?”

“Is this life or death?” Gabriel asked. “Because I seem to remember—”

“Considering we were just dead, I’m gonna go with ‘yeah.’ Well, sort of.”

“Castiel said you bit the big one. But you’re all better now, I see.”

“Look, we talked to an angel named Joshua that Cas told us about. He sent us back, but he said that God wants us to lay off the God hunt.”

“Uh-huh. Do me a favor and fast forward to the part that has anything to do with me.” 

“Aren’t you concerned?” Sam asked.

“About what?” Gabriel said. “God doesn’t want to be found. _I_ could tell you that. Could have saved you the trip.”

“We were sort of hoping—”

“What?” Gabriel asked testily. “God was Plan A, and I’m just sloppy seconds?”

“Even you have to admit that nothing beats having God on your side.”

“Which doesn’t matter anymore,” Dean said. “Look, can you go find Cas? He was really weird when we told him the news.”

“You’re joking, right? You called me to go track down your angel boyfriend?”

“He looked like he might do something stupid,” Sam said.

“He does seem to be doing stupid things today,” Gabriel replied. “I mean, you’d have to be suicidal to order me around while calling me a coward, right?”

There was silence.

“Guys? Right?”

“Well,” Sam said, “you did kinda run away from home and hide for thousands of years.”

“That was for my own protection,” Gabriel said. “And I wasn’t running away. I was sick of the fighting.”

“Sure.”

“Said the pot to the kettle. Didn’t the pot want to go to law school?”

“That was different.”

“Anyway,” Dean cut in. “Seriously, I’m worried about him.”

Gabriel sighed dramatically. “Oh, fine. By the way, the guys who whacked you? Totally taken care of.”

Dean looked at Sam as the phone beeped, signaling the end of the call. “Yeah, I don’t want to know.”

“Me neither.”

“I’ll tell you what I know,” came a third voice from the backseat.

Dean slammed on the brakes as he caught sight of Crowley in the rearview mirror.

Sam spun around, slashing with Ruby’s knife.

Crowley was already outside, knocking on the windshield. “Can we chat without the cutlery?”

“You almost got us killed,” Sam said, opening the door.

“Almost doesn’t count. Except in horseshoes and hand grenades.”

“You’ve got some nerve showing your face to us,” Dean said, slamming his own door.

“I gave you the Colt!”

“Which didn’t work!”

“That was… unfortunate, I’ll give you that,” Crowley said, backing up to avoid Sam. “But we all still want the Devil dead. Only, now he knows I want him dead.”

“So you’ve come crying to us?” Dean asked.

“I’ve come to bring you another option.”

“We’re through with your options,” Dean said. “I just got shot and brought back to life, and I’m _not_ in the mood for this shit.”

“I can give you Pestilence.”

“What the hell do we want with Pestilence?”

“We should just stab him,” Sam snapped.

“Because that’s worked for you so far,” Crowley said. “Pestilence’s ring.”

“What about the ring?” Dean asked.

“Oh, so you haven’t heard? There may be a way to trap Lucifer with the Horsemen rings.”

“And you know this because?”

“Have you met me? King of the Crossroads. That includes information.”

“So why don’t you go get the ring?” Sam asked.

“There’s demons. It’s not safe.”

“Oh, so we’re your cannon fodder,” Dean said. “How did you even find us?”

“I had a magic coin planted on your car.”

“Yeah, that makes me want to trust you. We’re done here. C’mon, Sam.”

“Hey, I’m trying to help you here,” Crowley said.

“And save your own skin,” Sam said.

“It’s not something for nothing,” Crowley said desperately. “I bring resources to you! I’ll help you stop Lucifer! I’ve got my own Hellhound!”

“And why is that supposed to be reassuring?” Dean said. “You show your face again, you’re getting a bullet from the Colt straight between the eyes.”

“Hey, chuckleheads.”

Everyone turned to look as Gabriel appeared beside the car.

Crowley took one look at the archangel and vanished.

“Aw, I think I scared him,” Gabriel said.

“Is he gone for good?” Sam asked.

“Let’s hope. First stop we come to, I’m taking apart the Impala and finding that bugged coin.” Dean looked at Gabriel. “You think _you_ would have noticed something like that.”

“Please. You’ve got so much occult stuff in your trunk that it’s easier to just tune it out.”

Dean was still looking at the car when he seemed to realize something. He spun to face Sam.

“Dude. You stabbed my upholstery.”

“I was aiming for Crowley.”

“You _cut the leather_ , Sam.” And now Dean was looking truly murderous.

“There was a demon in the backseat!”

“There’s a fucking gash in my backseat!”

Sam shrugged. “Gabriel can fix it.”

“I’m not your maid,” Gabriel said.

“Did you find Cas yet?” Dean asked.

“It’s on my to do list. So, how was Heaven?”

“Creepy.”

“Monotonous.”

Gabriel nodded. “Sounds like home sweet home.”


	7. All Kinds of Awesome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zachariah gets his ass handed to him, and Castiel is still on a bender.

“I thought you might drop in here,” Zachariah said, appearing in the middle of Bobby’s living room. “So I had the place watched. See, boys, I’m learning.”

Sam was already slicing his palm with a knife. But then the knife disappeared, and his hand was healed.

“No, no, no,” Zachariah said. “We can’t have that. And Bobby, hello! I don’t believe we’ve met. Did you know that if Dean had just said yes, you’d be up and walking right now?”

“Shove it up your ass.”

Zachariah stepped toward the brothers. “Now. Since you—somehow—escaped Heaven, we’re just going to have to do the persuading right here on Earth.”

“So you’re going to torture us into saying yes?” Dean said. “You might not have noticed, but I spent about thirty years in Hell with someone way more qualified than you holding the knife.” He slowly reached into his pocket.

“True. But then, you never cared about _your_ suffering, did you? Let’s see… last time we did this, I think Sam didn’t have his lungs…”

Dean pulled out his phone.

Zachariah didn’t do anything to stop him. Instead, he just laughed. “Yes, call Castiel. I have some choice words to share with him.”

Dean opened the phone and pushed two buttons. “Not calling Cas.”

Zachariah laughed again. “There’s no one you can call that can help you.”

“Guess again.”

Zachariah spun at the voice from behind him. Then he took a step back, visibly shocked.

Gabriel rocked on his heels, grinning. “Hey. Long time no see.”

“Gabriel,” he said, surprised, but still not catching on that Gabriel wasn’t appearing in any angelic capacity.

“In the flesh. Well, you know. Vessels and all that.” Gabriel walked around Zachariah, forcing him to turn to maintain eye contact. He placed himself in front of the Winchesters.

“You were lost to the Host,” Zachariah said.

“I made myself scarce. Took a little vacation. And then I turn around, and what do you know? The planet’s crawling with angels and it’s the End of Days.”

“Michael will be glad to hear of you.”

“Will he?”

“You’ve found the vessels.”

Gabriel nodded. “Yep. I have. And?”

“You’re—not giving him to Michael?” Zachariah said, like the idea was absurd.

“Nope. See, we’re pulling the plug on the Apocalypse. And everyone is staying in control of their bodies.”

“Not bad, huh?” Dean asked. “Archangel on speed dial.”

“You might say I’ve gone native,” Gabriel said.

“You’re _helping_ them?” Zachariah spat.

“Bingo.”

There was the sound of wings, and Dean got the impression that Zachariah was trying to leave.

Gabriel held up a hand. “I can’t have you running back and blowing my cover.”

“How can you side with these animals over your own brothers?”

“The brothers who oh-so-lovingly want to kill each other?” Gabriel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“This is the End! It’s destined. Foretold!”

“Then why so much meddling to bring it about? Honestly, this is the most pathetic excuse for an Apocalypse I’ve ever seen. But first things first. What to do with you?” Gabriel held his hand up, rubbing his fingers together slowly.

“How about the Archangel Snap of Doom?” Sam asked.

“That is a classic,” Gabriel agreed. “How do you feel about exploding?”

“Well, don’t explode him in here,” Bobby spoke up. “Not unless you’ve also got the Archangel Snap of Merry Maids.”

Gabriel grinned. Evilly. “I provide full cleanup service. So how about it, Zach?”

“What do you want?” Zachariah said.

“Hmm.” Gabriel tilted his head. “Well, first, I want you to beg. Because if you don’t care about your own existence, well, I know I don’t. And I’m sure they don’t,” he said, gesturing behind him.

Zachariah muttered something.

“I can’t heeeear you.”

“Don’t kill me.”

“‘Don’t kill me,’ _what_?”

“Sir.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Your groveling skills are pathetic. Tell you what. I’ll give you some time to work on them, and then we’ll try this again,” he said brightly. He held up his fingers, ready to snap. “Did you know Sam likes dinosaurs?”

“What does that have to—”

Gabriel snapped, and Zachariah disappeared.

There was a moment of silence.

Dean broke it. “Dude. That was all kinds of awesome.”

“Where did you send him?” Sam asked.

“Jurassic Park.”

“The movie?”

Gabriel nodded. “It’s like TV Land, only better. Movie Land.” Then he shook his head. “I hate it when the lower ranks get all presumptuous and uppity. I mean, who does he think he is? Michael? Raphael? _Me_?”

“Yeah, Raphael might still be trapped in some holy fire,” Dean said. “We’re not sure.”

“See, this is why angels shouldn’t come to Earth,” Gabriel said. “You get all chummy with them, and the next thing you know, they’re spilling all our secrets. Holy fire, banishing sigils—Castiel needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut.”

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” Bobby asked, wheeling over.

“I was here for about five seconds last week to kill some zombies,” Gabriel said.

“We told you we had Gabriel helping us now,” Sam said.

“No, somewhere else,” Bobby said. Then, “You look like that trickster we killed.”

Gabriel smirked. “I am that Trickster you ‘killed.’” He did air quotes.

“Dean…”

“Did we forget to mention Gabriel is the Trickster? Sorry, Bobby.”

“Oops,” Sam said. “It slipped our minds.”

“How does that slip your mind?”

“Hey, remember how you said you’d keep us in TV Land forever?” Dean asked.

“Yep,” Gabriel said.

“Why don’t we do that?”

“Dude, are you _insane_?” Sam said.

“I’m saying we could hide there for a while. In a nice TV show,” he added. “Like Gilligan’s Island. With Ginger.”

“You just want to give up?”

“No! But we’d be off everyone’s radar, right?” Dean asked, looking at Gabriel.

“Nice thinking, but someone would find us eventually,” Gabriel said. “Though if you want to go on vacation, say the word and we’re in The Bahamas. I’m feeling generous.”

“Hey, did you find Cas yet?”

“Yep.”

“And?” Dean asked.

“He’s working through some abandonment issues. He’ll be back.”

“Issues?” Dean scoffed. “What’s he doing, sitting on some mountaintop communing with the stars?”

“Actually, he was in Russia, drunk off his ass.”

Sam snorted. “Castiel? _Drunk_?”

“Dude, you gotta get him back here,” Dean said. “This I have to see.”

“I don’t think he’s in the mood for company.”

“Hey, um, Gabriel?” Sam asked after a second. “Do you think maybe you could heal Bobby?”

“What am I, your slave? ‘Save us from Zachariah, go find Castiel, heal Bobby.’” Then Gabriel shrugged. “Sure. It’s no big deal.”

Gabriel didn’t move.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Bobby asked.

“For you to lay down your pride and ask me.”

“Would you heal me?” Bobby said. “Please.”

“See, was that so hard?” Gabriel snapped his fingers. “All done. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m allergic to Hallmark moments.”

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“I told you, The Bahamas,” Gabriel said. And then he disappeared.

However, Gabriel found himself going north, to the top of the planet where there was nothing but ice and rocks. 

And Castiel.

He was sitting on a chuck of ice, oblivious to the climate.

“And how are we feeling today?” Gabriel greeted him.

“I have stopped drinking. I believe I am ‘hung over’.”

“You know, I’m all for you getting that stick out of your ass, but this is not the way to have fun with alcohol. Are you done with your pity party yet?”

“God doesn’t care,” Castiel said flatly, the same answer he had given when Gabriel asked him almost any question.

And something snapped.

“Well aren’t you a special snowflake,” Gabriel growled, slamming Castiel up against the pile of ice. “Listen up. _We_ were the special ones. I’ve met the man. We four were the first, and He still left us. So if you want to wallow, knock yourself out. But don’t do it because Daddy let you down. Newsflash, Castiel—He knows. He has to. You think all you have to do is find Him and He’s going to swoop in and fix everything? Doesn’t work like that, kiddo. He doesn’t fix their problems, and He’s not going to fix ours.”

He shoved Castiel back, letting him go, and Castiel allowed himself to slide down the ice. He came to rest in a reclining position.

“My apologies,” he finally said. “Of course it is personal for you.”

Gabriel sighed and sat down on the ice.

“I do not see why Dean enjoys this feeling,” Castiel said. “It is not pleasant.”

“Nope. But it helps you forget, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” Castiel fell silent again. “My apologies also for calling you a coward.”

Hung over Castiel was very polite. A nice change from drunk Castiel, who was impatient and rude.

“You are sacrificing family in siding with us.”

“You and me both.” Gabriel paused. “And we’re it. This thing’s not stopping by itself. And God’s not stopping it. But let me tell you, I wouldn’t be on this boat if I thought it was sinking.”

“I see.”

“They’re worried about you. Dean, especially.”

“I will return. When I’m myself again.”

“Why wait? You look okay to me. Better than yesterday. _Much_ better.”

Castiel paused, a faint smile tracing his lips. “Because I do not believe Dean would let me ‘live this down’.”

Gabriel rolled his head back, looking at the gray sky. “We should make snow angels while we wait.”


	8. End Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which plans are (sort of) made to face the Devil. Snark abounds.

“Who would have thought the fate of the world would be decided in a trashy motel room?”

“Gabriel—”

“I’m just saying. And was the honeymoon suite all they had left?”

“Yes,” Dean ground out.

“We got some funny looks when we checked in,” Sam said.

“Bet you get those a lot.” Gabriel bounced on the heart-shaped bed, reclining and crossing his arms over his head. He looked up. “Mirrors. Nice.”

“Dean doesn’t like mirrors,” Castiel said.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Do tell.”

“Dude, not like that,” Dean said. “Last time I stayed somewhere with a mirrored ceiling, _some_ clueless angel kept trying to talk to me in a voice that can shatter glass.”

“Obviously, I thought you would be special,” Castiel said.

“Got that one wrong, huh?”

“You’re still special, Dean.”

“Right. I’m the one Michael wants to wear to the prom.”

“The point,” Sam said, “is that we need to figure out a way to stop Lucifer.”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been trying to do?” Gabriel asked. “Does anyone else want ice cream?”

“We’ve been on the defense,” Sam said. “It’s time we took the offense.” He sat down across from Castiel at the table. Dean continued to lean on the dresser.

Gabriel sighed and sat up. “Okay, the floor’s yours, boys.”

“Well, maybe it should be yours,” Dean said. “Archangel? Don’t you have some inside tips?”

“Not really,” Gabriel said, licking an ice cream cone.

“What about what Crowley was saying?” Sam asked. “The Horsemen rings. Is that true?”

“Sure,” Gabriel said. “That would open the cage.”

“Well, that’s great.”

“Only problem is, Lucifer’s not just gonna waltz back in. The cage door opening isn’t exactly subtle, either.”

“Maybe we could trick him?” Sam suggested.

“Trick _the Devil_? Are you kidding?”

“I don’t know, _Trickster_ ,” Dean said.

“Not that I like admitting it, but I have my limits, after all.”

“Dean,” Sam said meaningfully.

“No,” he growled.

“But—”

“I said no!”

Gabriel stared. “Somebody want to translate Winchester into English for me?”

“Sam has been considering saying yes,” Castiel said.

“Wow.” Gabriel whistled. “Uber bad idea there, Sammy.”

“Don’t call me Sammy. It could work,” Sam said to Dean. “I say yes, and then I jump into the cage.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—hold on,” Gabriel said. “Are we talking about fighting _Lucifer_ for control of your body?”

“See,” Dean said. “He agrees with me.”

“Sam,” Gabriel said, “You couldn’t fight _Castiel_ for control of your body, let alone _Satan_. No offense,” he added to Castiel.

Castiel looked resigned. “I realize I’m limited.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean said. “You’re badass. For a nerd.”

Castiel perked up, giving Dean his almost-smile.

“Badass?” Gabriel scoffed. “ _Castiel_? What can he do?”

“I can escape a fire circle by myself.”

Gabriel sneered.

“Anyway,” Sam said, “It was just an idea.”

“Well, it’s the worst possible idea. That would be giving my brother his perfect vessel.”

“And if Dean said yes,” Castiel said, “Michael would begin Armageddon, no matter what vessel Lucifer is in.”

“I’m not saying yes!” Dean protested. “But I’ve seen what happens when Sam does.”

“I need a trans-la-tion,” Gabriel chimed, finishing the last of his ice cream.

“Zachariah showed Dean a possible future,” Castiel said. “Lucifer had run of the world.” He paused. “And apparently I was a ‘hippie’.”

“Look, I let Lucifer out,” Sam said. “If someone has to take the fall to put him back in again, it should be me. Whether that means saying yes or something else,” he said to Dean. “Trapping him doesn’t sound like it’s going to be easy.”

“Do you remember what I said about continually sacrificing yourself?” Gabriel asked. “Do we need to go back to the Mystery Spot?”

“It is possible,” Castiel said, “that another angel may be able to take Lucifer to Hell.”

“No,” Dean said. “No one is sacrificing themselves. If trapping Lucifer involves anyone jumping into Hell, we’re not doing it.” He paused. “Unless Gabriel changes his mind.”

“Thanks ever so.”

“Okay, fine,” Sam said. “We can’t trap Lucifer, so we’re back to killing him. The Colt didn’t work.”

Gabriel snorted. “You tried to kill Lucifer with _a gun_?”

“A demon killing gun,” Sam said defensively.

“Newsflash, hot shot, he’s not a demon.” Gabriel stood.

“So what kills angels? Holy fire?”

“Yeah, good luck trapping Lucifer in a ring of holy fire.”

“We got you, didn’t we?” Dean asked.

Gabriel glowered.

“Cas has killed angels with that sword,” Dean said.

“That would do it. Little known fact—you don’t actually have to be an angel to kill an angel. You just need the right equipment.”

“You know, I’m still not getting why you don’t just fly over and gank Lucifer yourself,” Dean said. “Would save us a lot of trouble. Surely if Michael can do it, so can you.”

“I’m not killing my brother,” Gabriel said dangerously. “And that’s final.”

“But you’re down with helping us kill your brother.”

“I’m ‘down’ with saving this little mud ball you’re so fond of. And it’s not like you have room to talk. You wouldn’t even _help_ someone kill _your_ brother.”

Dean glared. “Sam’s not ending the world.”

“That you knew of,” Gabriel said, shooting him a smug look.

“Guys!” Sam said. “Knock it off.”

“So.” Dean held out his hand. “Archangel sword. Pony up.”

“I’m not giving you my sword.” Gabriel made a face. “That thing can kill me.”

“Here, Dean.”

Castiel extended his arm, sword gripped loosely in his fingers.

Dean took it. “So this would do it, huh?” He flipped it. “You think it’d be heavier. What’s this made out of?”

“No metal found on the Earth,” Castiel said.

“Really?” Sam asked.

“Don’t let Sammy get his geek on,” Dean said. He flipped the sword again. “Space sword. Awesome.”

“I can’t believe you just gave him that,” Gabriel said, dumbfounded.

“I’ll give it back,” Dean said.

“You handed an angel-killing sword over to a _human_ ,” Gabriel said, like maybe Castiel hadn’t realized.

Castiel was unfazed. “Dean wouldn’t harm me.”

“Maybe we should try it out on an archangel,” Dean said. “Y’know, just to make sure it works.”

“I’m about one second away from leaving for Tahiti.”

“What’s the matter, Gabe? Don’t you trust me?”

“Like you really trust me.”

“Dude,” Sam said, “We have to trust you just to be in the same room with you. Since you’ve got the Archangel Snap of Doom and all.”

Sam snatched the sword from Dean and put it in the middle of the table.

“Oh, fine,” Gabriel grumbled. He took out his own sword and slammed it down next to Castiel’s. “So this is our plan, then? Kill Lucifer?”

“Could we get more swords?” Sam asked.

“Not without going to Heaven,” Gabriel said.

“Or killing for them,” Castiel said.

“Well, aren’t you down for slaughter?”

“I’m merely stating all options. I would prefer not to do that, but if it gives us the tools to defeat Lucifer—”

“Okay,” Sam cut in. “This still isn’t a plan. Does anyone have a plan?”

It was silent for a moment.

“Sooo…” Gabriel started. “You trust me?”

“Yeah,” Sam said.

“And Dean?”

Dean just glared.

“I’m _wait_ ing.”

Dean glanced at Castiel, and then back to Gabriel. “Fine, all right? I trust you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Really _really_?”

“Yes, already!”

Gabriel smiled, picking up his sword. “I think we can work with this, boys.”


	9. Righteous Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Team Free Will takes on Satan.

“I thought you said you couldn’t trick the Devil.”

“Dean, I said I couldn’t trick the Devil into prison. Tricking him into thinking I don’t have a stake in this? Piece of cake. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly have the best character references these days.” 

“This is way too simple to work.”

“This is the best we’ve got,” Sam said.

“I know,” Dean said.

“Keep it simple, stupid,” Gabriel said. “This is simple. There’s absolutely nothing that can go wrong.”

“Unless he sees right through it.”

“In which case we hightail it to the opposite side of the planet, and we’re back to square one. But he won’t.”

“Just sneak up behind Lucifer,” Dean said. “If it’s so easy, why haven’t we done this before?”

“Because you never thought about the right bait.”

Sam glared. “I’m not bait.”

“Dude,” Dean said, “you’re totally the bait.” Then he eyed Gabriel. “And hopefully Gabriel isn’t _actually_ gift wrapping us for Satan.”

“Hey,” Gabriel said, “ _I’ve_ got to trust that Sam isn’t suddenly going to fulfill his martyr complex and let Lucifer jump his bones.”

“Yeah, about that. You’re not still on about saying yes, are you, Sammy?”

“No! I told you I wasn’t.”

Gabriel glanced sideways at Dean. “I notice you’re not cross-examining Castiel about what he’s not going to do.”

“Cas will do what he’s supposed to do.”

“Geez, what’s a guy gotta do to get a free pass around here?” Gabriel asked Castiel.

“Rebel against Heaven.”

“I did that,” Gabriel said, waving his hand. “Sort of.”

“Personally raising him from Hell will also help.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“Okay,” Sam said. “Are we ready to do this?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Dean said.

“We all know the drill?” Sam asked. He and Gabriel stood facing Dean and Castiel.

“What drill?” Gabriel asked. “All you have to do is—oh right, nothing.” He looked at Dean. “You, however—you screw up, and—”

“Yeah, yeah, the end of the world. What else is new?”

“You won’t have time to hesitate—”

“Why the hell would I hesitate?”

“—or even _check_ ,” Gabriel said seriously. “It has to be that fast. I can’t bring you because he’ll feel me reaching out. Castiel can come to me, but you’ll have to trust that he’ll land you in the exact the right spot.”

“I trust Cas!”

“I’m just saying. You know that to you it’s not even like moving. The room will just _blink_.”

“Yeah, we’ve been practicing. And I’m gonna be stopped up for a week,” Dean muttered.

Gabriel shook his head. “That shouldn’t really be a side effect, y’know. You’re just not getting enough fiber.”

“Are you sure he won’t catch on to this?” Sam asked.

“You doubt my skills of appearing apathetic?”

“Being bugged.”

“I told you, angels don’t bother to consider technology.”

“It’s true,” Castiel said. “Lucifer seemed most baffled about my car ride.”

“And you can find him?” Sam said.

“Uh, duh,” Gabriel said, raising an eyebrow. “He’s my brother. And he’s not really hiding. The only reason the whole Host doesn’t show up on his doorstep is the fact that they don’t actually want him dead, as an agenda. They want _Michael_ to kill him.”

“So where is he?”

“Detroit.”

“Oh, that’s not ominous at all,” Dean grumbled. 

“Okay, gang, this is it.” Gabriel handed his sword to Dean. “Sam and I have to come from a different direction.”

Dean nodded. He and Sam shared a long look, and then Gabriel put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and they both disappeared.

A few moments later, Dean’s phone rang. He put it on speaker. Gabriel’s voice echoed, distant but clear. “Okay, we’re close enough that we shouldn’t lose the signal. You’re on speaker and you’re in my pocket.”

“Got it.” Dean put his phone in his shirt pocket, freeing his hands. “You still hear me?”

“You hearing me is the important part.”

“We can,” Castiel said.

“Okay, gang. Radio silence from here on out.”

Dean gripped Gabriel’s sword in his right hand. Castiel transferred his own sword to his left. He slid the fingers of his right hand around Dean’s wrist. Apparently the touch to the forehead was just the preferred way to fly Angel Airlines. But anything in his face would be a distraction for this.

He didn’t look at Castiel, just focused on the blank room in front of him, ready.

The next voice they heard over the phone wasn’t Gabriel’s.

\-----

“Brother.”

Gabriel had appeared alone in the abandoned room where Lucifer was watching the city by himself.

“It’s been a while,” Gabriel said.

Lucifer turned from the window. “It is good to see you. Though I suppose you’re here to deliver a message.”

“I don’t do the Messenger gig anymore.” Gabriel shrugged nonchalantly. “Did you know? That I left,” he clarified.

That earned a look of surprise. “You rebelled?”

“No, I just left. You were cast out, then Dad left, and it’s basically organized chaos up there. So I left. I decided to try Earth.”

“I see.”

Gabriel flung his hands out. “And now it’s starting all over again.”

“It’s not starting, Gabriel, it’s ending.”

“Is it? Or is this just going to go on forever, Lucifer? I want it to be over.”

“So do I.”

“I’m not on your side, or Michael’s.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Oh, come on, we both know it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that Michael has the whole Host of Heaven or that you have the Horsemen. Because it’s all going to come down to the two of you. Mano a mano. It won’t end otherwise.”

“True.” Lucifer nodded. “So you’re refusing to pick a side, just sitting on the fence and waiting for a victor?”

“No. Heaven, Hell—I don’t care. Whoever wins, I’m still gone and I’m not coming back after the party’s over.”

“I appreciate the honesty, Gabriel. But it does puzzle me why you came at all, if just to say that you’re not getting involved. It doesn’t sound like you’ve been involved in some time.”

“Maybe I’m feeling nostalgic.” Then he sighed. “I told you, I just want it to be over. I’m tired. Did you know Heaven’s angels are killing each other now? Seems no one told them they’re supposed to be on the same side. I can’t even get away from the fighting anymore by being on Earth. So, in the interest of moving things along, I brought you a present.”

“Oh?”

Gabriel snapped, and Sam appeared.

Lucifer was suddenly very interested. “Well.”

Gabriel grabbed Sam’s arm in a bruising grip. “You needed one of these, didn’t you? I came across the matched set.”

“How ever did you find him?” Lucifer asked, moving closer.

“It’s weird—I keep running into them. Like fate or something.” Gabriel snorted. “Of course, it doesn’t hurt that I was pretending to be one of the things they hunt. Silly boys just can’t not finish a job.”

Lucifer tilted his head and studied Sam, who was giving him a death glare.

“He doesn’t seem any more inclined to say yes.”

“Hey, I’m just the delivery boy. I found him; I delivered. I’ve got Dean all wrapped up ready to FedEx to Michael. And then I’m out of here.” He dragged Sam forward. “Get him to say yes, and you and Mike can dance the Lambada.”

Lambada.

That was the signal word.

Castiel appeared in the room half a second later, Dean in tow. They materialized behind Lucifer, scarcely a foot away.

Dean stabbed him without pausing. Without a sound.

The first true awareness Lucifer had of their presence was the tip of a sword protruding from his chest. He stared at it a moment, stunned. Then he looked at Gabriel.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel said.

Lucifer opened his mouth, but only radiance spilled out.

Gabriel pulled Sam back, but he watched his brother’s end to the end.

He stood over the body that was never really his brother and the wing prints that were.

“Goodbye,” he said. Then he vanished.

Dean untangled himself from Castiel, who had turned him around and pulled his head down when the lightshow started, and who he was totally _not_ hugging. His eyes met Sam’s across Lucifer’s body.

Lucifer. Dead. They had actually done it. 

He didn’t even know what to fucking say.

It was Castiel who spoke, almost as if he were making a proclamation.

“The righteous man who begins it, is the only one who can finish it.” He stooped to wrench the sword free from Lucifer, wiped the blood on the clothes, and put the blade back in Dean’s hand. “Well done.”


	10. The Angel on Your Shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Castiel won’t go away, and the new ruler of Hell drops by.

“Dude, did you take Gabriel’s sword?”

“No,” Sam said, not looking up from his laptop. “Why?”

“Because it’s gone,” Dean said, digging through his bag. “Fuck, he’s gonna kill me. Possibly multiple times.”

“How did you lose it? It’s been _one day_ , Dean.”

“I didn’t lose it! I put it in here last night and—what the hell is this?” Dean pulled out something from the bottom of his duffel that he didn’t recognize.

It was a toy light saber, the kind that extended when you slung it out. There was a note. 

_Another sword from my personal collection. Enjoy. –G_

“Fun-ny,” Dean said. “Did he stop by?”

“He must have just taken the sword. Or zapped it away.” 

“Cas, did you see him?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t here. Gabriel is capable of—”

“Yeah, yeah, phenomenal cosmic powers.” Dean zipped up his bag and looked at the clock. “Nearly two in the morning,” he commented. “Twenty-four hours since we killed the Devil.”

“And?” Sam asked.

“I feel like we’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. For some demons to come after us because we killed their god, for Michael to just smite us for stopping his Apocalypse. Something.”

“The angels are gone,” Castiel said. “It’s silent.”

“What do you mean?”

“At Lucifer’s death, they returned to Heaven.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean said, “we all know how fast they can zap back down. Particularly if they’re feeling vengeful.”

“As for the demons—” a new voice said.

“Crowley!” Sam said, jumping up.

Dean reached for the Colt.

“Now, just—wait,” Crowley said. “I came to congratulate you.”

“Right.”

Crowley raised his eyebrows. “You killed Lucifer. That’s not nothing, gentlemen. Also, I have you to thank for my new situation in life.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re looking at the—wait for it—new ruler of Hell.”

“ _You_?” Sam asked.

“Don’t look so shocked. I started out in sales and worked my way up the ladder. Perfectly natural rewards of sticking with the company so long. I only had to slit a few throats and the post was all mine. However,” he said, holding up a finger, “you two got the big hitters out of the way—Lucifer, the Horsemen, Alistair, Azazel, Lilith.”

“Glad we could help with your career advancement,” Dean said. “Now give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you.”

“Surely it’s better to have the devil you know in charge? Someone you like.”

“We _don’t_ like you,” Sam said.

“I like you. All right, all right,” Crowley said, waving his hands, “I don’t like you. But I don’t wish you any specific harm, which is liking you for a demon.”

“He may have a point, Dean,” Castiel said grudgingly. “At the very least, it would be refreshing for Hell itself not to have your death as an agenda.”

“Fine,” Dean said, slowly lowering the Colt. “But how the hell do you even know? There weren’t any witnesses.”

“It’s my business to know.”

“So _are_ we going to have demons coming after us for killing Lucifer?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I’m sure there will be some. But even in Hell, Lucifer was locked up. He wasn’t exactly hands on. Things aren’t changing that much.”

“Fascinating.”

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam said. “This is good to know.”

“I’m off,” Crowley said. “Hope to not see you again. Though if you ever want to make a deal, I’ll personally take care of it for you.”

Before Sam or Dean could reply, Crowley disappeared.

“Dammit,” Dean muttered. “You just can’t get the last word with demons.”

Sam shut his laptop. “I’m going to bed.”

“Yeah, all right,” Dean said.

They both got ready to go to sleep, but it wasn’t until Dean was lying down that he realized Castiel was still sitting on the couch.

“What are you gonna do, Cas?”

“I’ll just sit here quietly.”

Dean shrugged, settling back into the bed as Sam flipped off the lights and got into his own bed.

That lasted for all of five minutes before Dean propped himself up and looked at Castiel again. “Dude, I can’t sleep while you’re watching me.”

“You didn’t object to my presence last night.”

“That’s because Dean was wasted and passed out last night,” Sam said.

“If killing the Devil isn’t an excuse for booze, what is? But why are you still hanging around, anyway, Cas? You haven’t left since we ganked Lucifer.”

“I have nowhere else to go. But I can leave if you’d like.”

“Angel guilt trip,” Sam whispered.

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled. “Fine, stay. I thought you said you didn’t perch?”

“My objectives have changed somewhat.”

“Yeah, Dean, like when he _rebelled against Heaven_ for you.”

“Okay, okay,” Dean said. Still, he rolled on to his side so his back was to Castiel.

A few minutes later, Sam made a noise that could only be described as a giggle.

“ _What_?” Dean asked.

“Remember how you told me what Mom said?”

“Shut _up_ , Sam.”

“About how angels were watching over you?” he continued, snickering.

“Yeah, she didn’t mention that I’d get one who would never _stop_ watching me.”

“I can lie down on the couch,” Castiel said.

“Yeah, you do that.”

Five minutes later, Dean broke the silence again. “He’s watching me with his mind!”

“Dean, _come on_!” Sam exclaimed.

“I can _feel_ it!”

“Oh, for the love of—” Sam got out of bed, crossed the room, and leaned over the couch to say something in a low voice to Castiel.

Castiel disappeared.

“What did you do?” Dean asked.

“Explained to him that you needed your space.”

“Oh. Good.”

Sam got back into his bed. “I also told him that if he wanted to hang out here, he should just wait until you’re asleep to come back.”

“You are not a helpful brother, you know that?”

Sam just snickered again.

“Great.” Dean rolled over. “Now I’ll never get to sleep.”


	11. Mysterious Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone goes to see the prophet Chuck after an Apocalypse well done.

“Awesome. Cas, you’re awesome.”

Last night, apparently Sam had also told Castiel that Dean would love it if he brought breakfast.

“Awesome,” Dean said again, eyeing the food on the table.

He was just finishing up when his phone rang.

“Dean? It’s Chuck. Hey, uh, I need to talk to you.”

“So talk.”

“In person.”

“Uh-huh… Is this like when Zachariah gave you that false prophecy?”

“No! No. The angels aren’t here anymore. Good job, by the way, on the other night.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll be there.”

“Bring Castiel, too.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Dude, we can’t bring Cas to your house. We like him unexploded.”

“No, it’s fine! Really. I swear. I’ve got a message for him. From God.”

“Look, I’m sure you—” Dean suddenly found the phone yanked from his hand.

“We’ll be there!” Gabriel said. Then he snapped the phone shut.

“Where have you been?” Dean asked.

“Around.”

“How… are you?” Sam asked.

“I am what I am.” Gabriel shrugged. “I’m the guy who helped kill his brother to save the world.” He shrugged again. “Someone was going to die—Michael, Lucifer, the planet. I’ll deal.” He rubbed his hands together. “So, let’s go see the prophet!”

“We’re going in the car,” Dean said firmly.

“Oh, fine.” Gabriel reappeared next to Castiel and slung an arm around his shoulders. “I’ll keep little bro here from getting exploded.”

“You care?” Dean asked.

“Hey, I’m loyal. Once I decide I like someone, I like them to keep existing. It’s one of my good qualities.”

“Good qualities?”

“I’ve also got a cheerful disposition, and I’m always kind to animals.” 

Castiel was still standing ramrod straight, even though Gabriel was practically hanging off him. Gabriel stepped back and gave him a little shove. “You seriously need to loosen up. Both figuratively and literally. Figure out how to stop wearing that body like you bought it off the rack. Your vessel is like a designer label, custom made just for you.”

“No more wearing people analogies,” Dean said. “Besides, Cas is alone in there.”

“Right.” Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows.

“ _You’re_ kind to animals?” Sam asked, changing the subject.

“Hey, I like animals,” Gabriel said. “What did animals ever do to me?”

“What did people ever do to you?”

“It’s what people do to each other. Animals are great. I’ve even got a dog.” Gabriel bit his lip guiltily, frowning. “…somewhere.”

Sam snorted. “You forgot where you put your dog?”

“I left him plenty of food. I think. Anyway, I can always bring him back.” He paused. “Again.”

Sam made a face, but didn’t reply. There was something just a little disturbing about the idea of Gabriel and some eternally reincarnating dog.

Gabriel walked over to the table and slammed his hand down. “Brought you something, boys.” 

It was a ring. “Pestilence,” Gabriel said. “I was feeling vengeful, yet constructive. Thought I might as well, since you lot would end up coughing up blood if you got near him.”

“Wow,” Sam said. “Thanks.”

“But what are we supposed to do with it?” Dean asked. “Or the other two?”

“Souvenir,” Gabriel said. “You know, ‘I stopped the Apocalypse and all I got was this lousy Horseman ring.’”

“What about Death?”

“What about him? Death goes back to being Death. You can’t kill Death, folks.”

“But Lucifer rose him,” Sam said. “Shouldn’t we put him back somehow?”

Gabriel shook his head. “Death was always risen. What Lucifer did was control him, and that was broken when you killed him. Death’s back to his everyday job, bossing the Reapers around. He doesn’t actually go around destroying cities, you know. It’s not the natural order. And believe me, he’s all about the natural order.”

Dean picked up the ring, looking at Sam. “Dad’s lockup, maybe? Get some hex boxes?”

“Or Bobby’s panic room. If Bobby will have them down there. Anyway, we should get a move on if we’re going to Chuck’s.”

He and Dean packed up the Impala while Gabriel sat around eating Gummi Bears. 

“What of Zachariah?” Castiel asked as they walked outside.

“Oh, I’ve still got him,” Gabriel said. “Been a while since I delivered judgment on an angel, so I’m making the most of it.”

“I see.”

“C’mon, Castiel, you can admit it. You don’t like him, and you’re enjoying the fact that he got what was coming to him.”

“He was my superior,” Castiel said automatically.

“But you don’t _like_ him, do you?”

“No.”

“See how good it feels to have opinions? There’s more to free will than deciding not to follow crap orders.”

“ _You’re_ giving lessons in free will now?” Dean asked. “Isn’t free will a human thing?”

“Hey, I was the first angel to figure out free will. I’m ahead of my class.”

“Is Zachariah still in Movie Land?” Sam asked.

“Yep. He wanted an Apocalypse, so I gave him one. He’s visiting every apocalyptic movie ever made. Right now he’s in _Legion_. And then I’m sending him to _2012_.”

“Ouch.”

“The punishment fits the crime.”

“So are you coming with us?” Dean asked.

“Sure, why not?”

After they all got into the Impala, Gabriel snapped, and the world shifted around them. “Oh, look, we’re here,” he said brightly, opening his door.

“I said we were driving!” Dean growled, when recognized Chuck’s house.

“No, you said we were going in the car,” Gabriel said, looking satisfied. “Which we did.”

“I didn’t even get to start the engine!”

“C’mon, Dean,” Sam said, getting out. “We are here, no matter how we got here.”

Chuck opened the door before they got to the porch.

“Did you know we were coming?” Dean asked.

“You… told me on the phone.”

“I meant like this.”

“I was sitting by the window. I saw you in the street,” Chuck said, fiddling with his robe. “Anyway, I haven’t had any visions since I saw you kill Lucifer.”

“You and Cas both said the angels left. Please tell me you know what they’re doing,” Dean said, as they followed Chuck in.

“Uh, yeah. Nothing. Since you killed Lucifer and kind of put an end to the Apocalypse for, well, ever, they kind of have nothing else to do.”

Gabriel was leaning in a doorframe with his arms crossed, studying Chuck. “You seem very familiar.”

“I’ve, uh, got one of those faces.”

“So is Gabriel being here the reason we’re not getting a visit from Raphael right now?” Sam asked.

Chuck shrugged. “They’re all staying in Heaven. And I’m not getting any more visions, so I guess they cut me loose.”

“So they’re not coming back? At all?”

“Nope. The world’s going on just like it was before.”

“What do angels even do in Heaven?” Sam said.

“Watch,” Gabriel said. “Stand around. Sing praises. It’s great for the first few thousand years, but then it gets _boring_. They should actually try doing something.”

“Thanks but no thanks,” Dean said. “Considering that Cas here is the only angel who’s not accidentally evil when he does something.”

“Hey, I’m not evil,” Gabriel said. “Just misunderstood.”

Castiel spoke up. “You said you had a message for me?”

“Yeah,” Chuck said. “That you’re going to be reinstated. As of, like, receiving the message.”

Castiel looked down, flexing his hand. “I see.”

“What, that’s it?” Dean asked.

“Yes. I appear to be restored.”

“How can you even tell?”

“He’s playing with dimensions,” Gabriel said.

“I thought he’d glow or something,” Dean muttered.

“He’s glowing brighter than the sun. You just can’t see it. Wanna know how bright _I’m_ glowing?”

“No.” Dean turned to Castiel. “But this is great, right? No more being cut off.”

“Yes. However, angels such as myself—” He paused. “We are part of the hierarchy. Restored, I will be commanded to report to another.”

“So you’ll have to leave?” Dean said.

“It’s unlikely a superior will allow me to remain,” Castiel said, resigned.

Chuck cleared his throat. “And I’m also supposed to tell you that God assigned you directly to Gabriel.”

There was a pause.

“What the hell do I need you for?” Gabriel said. “Do whatever you want.”

Castiel looked at Gabriel with calculation. “Are those your orders?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said.

“Aren’t _you_ going back to Heaven?” Sam asked. “Ever?”

“Please. Have you not been paying attention? Besides, they’re probably all mad at me for throwing a spanner into their doomsday plan. They’ll cool off in a couple of millennia.”

“And no one’s going to be trying to smite Cas again?” Dean said.

“Are you kidding? He’s like my personal attaché now.”

Sam looked thoughtful. “So, the other angels were hunting Castiel because he disobeyed. But now that he’s technically obeying again, there’s no problem?”

“Wow, that’s convenient, huh?” Chuck said. “See? It all works out.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Chuck. “There’s something not right about you,” he announced. He rubbed his fingers together thoughtfully.

“Dude,” Sam said, “you’re not smiting the prophet! And what’s not right about him?”

“I know about hiding things. And he’s hiding something.”

There was suddenly a shriek from outside. “ _Oh. My. GOD!_ ”

Sam’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, God.”

“Is that—” Dean started.

“It is,” Chuck said.

Gabriel looked at Castiel, who subtly moved closer and put his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder.

The front door slammed open, and Becky burst in. “Sam! Dean! Oh my _GOD_! I hoped you would come by sometime! Great job stopping the Apocalypse, by the way. I read Chuck’s draft last week, and it was _amazing_. I was worried for a little while, but then you totally pulled it off!”

“Becky?” Chuck said, patting her arm. “Just breathe.”

“So… you’re still together,” Sam ventured.

“Yep,” Chuck said.

“Oh my GOD, and I loved the part when you—”

“We were just leaving, actually,” Dean said.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “You know, stuff to do.”

“Becky, could you give us a minute?” Chuck asked.

“Okay! I need to update my web page!” She squealed again, and then started up the stairs.

“Dude, seriously?” Dean asked.

Chuck grinned stupidly. “I just love the way she says ‘Oh my God.’”

“I don’t get it,” Sam said, frowning.

“Even I don’t get it,” Gabriel said. “Was that supposed to be dirty?”

“No. But you know what?” Chuck said. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, you must have fallen hard if you find that adorable,” Dean said. Then he turned to Gabriel. “And why the hell didn’t she bother you two?”

“I made us invisible.”

Dean glared at Castiel. “Thanks for the heads up, dude.”

“She had already seen your car,” Castiel said reasonably.

“Okay, we’re out of here. Unless the prophet Chuck has something else.”

“Nope, not really.”

The four of them went outside, and Chuck waved as he closed the front door.

“Well,” Sam said, “where to now?”

“Don’t know,” Dean said. “No Apocalypse to stop, no revenge to get—it’s back to normal.”

“Normal for us.”

“We should hit the road, maybe, pick a newspaper in the next town over. Check out the obits.”

“You two,” Gabriel announced, “are workaholics. Take a vacation, see the sights, live a little!”

“So I take it you’re off?” Sam asked.

“I’m totally off. Unless someone wants to come with me?”

“Where?”

“Anywhere! That’s the _point_.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“We could go to the British Museum…” Gabriel tempted.

“Sam is _not_ flying off to Europe with you,” Dean snapped, when Sam looked thoughtful.

“What? You trust me not to hand him over to Lucifer, but not to get him to Europe and back? I’m wounded.” Gabriel clapped his hands together. “Well, I’ll be seeing you.”

“Don’t tell me that means you’re coming back,” Dean said.

Gabriel grinned, waved, and blinked out of existence.

“Great,” Dean muttered.

“It can’t hurt to be on friendly terms with an archangel,” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Sam got in the car.

Dean turned to ask Castiel if he was coming, only to find that Castiel was staring intently at him. Possibly had been staring at him throughout the entire conversation with Gabriel.

“Does your offer still stand?” Castiel asked.

“My—huh?”

“You said that after the Apocalypse, you would like to show me Earth.”

“Yeah, sure, I mean, if you want,” Dean rambled. “But wouldn’t you rather be flying off somewhere being full on angel again? Don’t you miss Heaven?”

“I have been to Heaven. And I believe Gabriel’s orders were intended to keep me on Earth.” Castiel had his ‘innocent, yet sneaky angel’ face on.

“He said to do whatever you want.”

“And I want to stay here with you. And Sam.”

“Well. Good. Because I’d hate to have to add you to the list of people who disappeared on us.”

“I am not disappearing,” Castiel said seriously.

“Good.”

Dean realized that neither one of them had broken eye contact.

“Guys!” Sam yelled from inside the car. “Are we leaving or what?”

“Just a minute!”

“I do think there was value in Gabriel’s suggestion of time off,” Castiel said, opening the car’s back door. “You deserve to do something for yourselves.”

“Cas is staying with us,” Dean said to Sam as he got in the car. “Show him what he saved.”

“Sounds good. So where to? Find a haunting or something?”

Dean didn’t answer.

“Dean?”

“Nope, Sammy. Change of plans.”

“So, what?”

Dean started the engine, a smile in the corner of his mouth. “We’re going to the Grand Canyon.”


	12. Snapshots from the Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which all-powerful angels ruin Dean’s fun while hunting, and Castiel gets a hobby.

“You’re never going hunting with us again.”

“Dean, you’re overreacting,” Sam cut in.

“Stuff it, Sam. Every time I turned around, angel powers were happening. Cas was popping around all over the place, or unlocking the door before I could pick it, or just holding the demon there with his mind—”

“That was helpful!”

“Then why the hell did I spend an hour painting devil’s traps under the rugs?” He turned to Castiel. “And then you _caught me_ when it flung me across the room.”

“You would have preferred crashing through the window?” Castiel asked, frowning.

“It was a simple hunt. It was supposed to be simple.”

“I don’t understand. I made it simpler.”

Sam snickered. “You’re threatening his manhood.”

“I wasn’t threatening Dean. I saved him.”

“I don’t need saving!”

“Sometimes you do,” Sam said. “But hey, Castiel still sucks at blending in, if you need to feel better about something.”

\-----

“Dude, we need to find you a hobby.”

Dean stared at Castiel, who was once again sitting in the room doing absolutely nothing as the brothers got ready to sleep.

“Cause this?” Dean said. “Not working.”

“What do you want me to do?” Castiel asked.

“ _Anything_. Isn’t there anywhere you want to go? Do?”

“I have seen the world.”

“You can use my laptop, Cas,” Sam said from under the covers.

“Thank you, Sam.”

Dean lay back down. There was the faint glow of the laptop screen, and the sound of a button or two being pushed. It was silent for a few moments.

Then Castiel spoke again.

“What do I do with it?”

\-----

“Hey, guys. What’s going on?”

“We’re a little busy, Gabriel,” Sam said, firing a salt round at the advancing ghost.

“Where’s Castiel?”

“Dean made him stay home.”

“So this is a day in the Winchester life, huh? Running around in a pasture at two in the morning?”

The ghost reappeared a moment later. Sam raised his gun, but the ghost disintegrated when Gabriel snapped.

“Bor-ing,” Gabriel said.

“It’s a day at the office. We still need to burn the body.”

“Happening as we speak. Did you not notice the way she disappeared in a fiery column of death?”

“How did you know where the grave was?”

“Archangel.”

“There’s not _oxygen_ in a grave that’s not dug up.”

“Say it with me: _arch-angel_.”

“Sam!” Dean ran around the corner of the barn. “Did you find the grave—dammit!” he exclaimed when he saw Gabriel.

Dean whirled around and kicked a fencepost. “For fuck’s sake, I just want to kill something!”

Gabriel regarded him impassively. “Has anyone ever told you that you have anger issues?”

\-----

“I’m not sure which is creepier. An angel sitting in the dark while we sleep, or an angel reading in the dark while we sleep.”

“I do not require light to read, Dean. And I don’t want to disturb you.”

“So you’re down with Sam’s whole ‘educate Cas’ thing?”

“It could be informative.”

Dean turned to Sam. “Dude, you realize the hobby you just gave him is _us_ , right?”

“There’s not anything else, Dean,” Sam said. “He knows everything about everything. Astronomy, physics, chemistry, biology, geology—”

“Creation,” Castiel said, like it was obvious.

“Everything _except_ what people themselves have done. So yeah, I think history and art is pretty much it.”

“What humanity has to say for itself,” Castiel said, sounding like he was quoting Sam.

“Like it wasn’t already geeky enough around here,” Dean muttered.

“Humans study humans,” Sam said. “What’s wrong with an angel doing it?”

“It’s creepier.”

\-----

“It’s not that bad!”

“Dean, you can barely walk,” Sam said. “You’re using your own belt to tie off your bloody leg!”

Castiel closed the book he had been reading as they entered the motel room. He stood.

“Would you like me to heal you, or would you like to stitch up your wound with the complimentary sewing kit?”

Dean glared. “You know, I liked you better before you grew a sense of humor.”

Castiel looked at him with a smug head tilt.

“Healing,” Dean said, resisting the urge to add _Now_.

Castiel pressed two fingers to Dean’s forehead.

“Thanks,” he said gruffly.

“I’d also like the healing,” Sam said.

“You don’t even need stitches!” Dean protested.

“It’s still a cut, Dean! As long as he’s healing people—”

Dean shoved Sam in Castiel’s direction. “Sissy.”

\-----

“Are we having fun yet?”

“You’re turning not interfering into an art form at this point,” Sam snapped.

“I have many skills,” Gabriel said. 

One of the ghosts threw Sam into the wall.

“Ouch. That one looked like it hurt.”

Gabriel stood smirking in the middle of the abandoned house, refusing to lift a finger while the fight raged around him.

“All you have to do is say the word,” he said to Dean, who was knee deep in the basement grave, fumbling for the lighter fluid.

“No! We’re doing this ourselves.”

“This is like watching nature in action,” Gabriel said. “Survival of the fittest. I can do the documentary voiceover.”

The other ghost appeared above Dean, and the lighter flew out of his hand. “Dammit!”

“I can make fire in a rainstorm, you know.”

Dean lunged for his lighter. “Shut up!”

“That’s _not_ one of my many skills.”

\-----

“I do not understand the magic fingers.”

“Then get off the end of the bed,” Dean said, kicking at Castiel with his foot. “You’re messing up the balance.”

“Don’t try to understand, Cas,” Sam said. “It’s not a human thing, it’s a Dean thing.”

“Magic fingers are awesome, dude. At least I can relax.”

“I’m relaxed.”

“Cause spending the day organizing different kinds of devil’s traps into a _color-coded notebook_ is relaxing. And then you had to drag Cas into it.”

“Castiel doesn’t just know about devil’s traps, Dean, he freaking _designs them_. So yeah, I’m gonna take advantage of having a primary resource.”

“‘Primary resource’? You really are just a gigantic girl, aren’t you?”

Castiel stood, going to pick up a book from the stack he’d been reading.

“Hey, Cas?” Sam said. “I meant to ask, where are you getting the books?”

“Libraries.”

“What?”

Castiel stared at Sam blankly, like he didn’t understand the question. “Isn’t borrowing books the purpose of libraries?”

“You’re not… just popping all over the world taking books, are you?”

“I return them.”

“But—but what if someone goes to find a book and it’s not there? If it says it’s checked in, but it’s gone, it can mess up the system.”

“Now you’ve done it, Cas,” Dean said. “You’ve gone and horrified Sam’s inner librarian.”

“The books are only gone for a night,” Castiel assured Sam. “I am a very fast reader.”

\-----

“Okay, here’s how it’s gonna go. You can come on hunts. But don’t jump in unless we’re about to get killed.”

“I understand,” Castiel said. “You wish to accomplish things without assistance.”

“It makes Dean feel productive to do in a hour what we can do in one second,” Gabriel said. “I think it’s adorable.”

“Dean is good at what he does.”

“What about me?” Gabriel asked.

“You can never come on hunts,” Dean said.

“Heaven couldn’t tell me what to do. What hope do you have?”

“Fine, then come on hunts and kill everything for us.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to reverse psychology me?”

“Speaking of helping on hunts, does Castiel know how to work his new phone?” Sam said.

“Well, he should,” Gabriel said. “I spent an hour explaining how to track the GPS.”

“I will be able to find Dean now,” Castiel confirmed. “Or Sam.”

“I think we should put it to the test,” Gabriel said. “Let’s play a quick game of global hide and seek.” He grabbed Dean’s arm. “Dean has his phone. I have Dean. And no using angel powers to find _me_.”

Then Gabriel disappeared, dragging a protesting Dean with him.

“Gabriel could have just taken the phone,” Castiel said sullenly. “He didn’t have to take Dean.”

Castiel took out his own phone, staring at the screen for several seconds.

“Do you need—” Sam started.

“I will figure it out,” Castiel said. Then he disappeared.

Only to reappear on the other side of the room, where Sam’s phone was on the nightstand.

“I will try again.”


	13. Finding God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabriel goes back to Chuck’s and refuses to leave.

_Day 1._

“There’s something not right about you.”

“Oh. You’re back.”

Gabriel eyed Chuck. “You don’t seem very surprised.”

“Don’t I?” Chuck played with the ice cubes in his drink. “Uh, I’m surprised.”

“Uh-huh,” Gabriel said, raising an eyebrow. 

Then he plopped down on the couch next to Chuck, resting his arms over the back and putting his feet up on the coffee table. “Why don’t you save me a lot of trouble and just tell me what you know.”

“About what?”

“You want to play it that way, fine. I’ll just sit here. Forever. So, what’s on TV?”

\-----

_Day 2._

“What exactly do you think I’m hiding?”

Gabriel sat at the table as Chuck made breakfast. “Oh, I think you know.”

“I have no idea what you think.”

“Oh, I think you do.”

Chuck closed the fridge. “How about you tell me and then I’ll tell you if you’re right?” he asked hopefully.

“No, you say it first.”

“You.”

“You.”

“Chuck, who are you talking to?” Becky asked.

“Angels,” he said, like it was a perfectly normal answer.

“Oh. Okay!”

Chuck turned back to Gabriel. “You’re invisible, aren’t you?”

“I am _so_ invisible.”

\-----

_Day 3._

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

“I have all of eternity,” Gabriel said. “How about you?”

“Don’t archangels have better things to do?” Chuck asked.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Better things to do like start an Apocalypse?”

“I just think you’re going to get bored here after a while.”

“You do remember that I’m the guy who made Sam live the same day over and over again, right?”

\-----

_Day 4._

“This is a dream, isn’t it?”

“Yep.” Gabriel nodded helpfully. “You drank until you passed out, so I decided to tag along.”

\-----

_Day 5._

“I can be annoying until the end of _time_.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Why don’t you make me go away?” Gabriel asked.

“I wish I could.”

“I think you can.”

“I’ll do a banishment sigil,” Chuck threatened.

“I’ll stop you before you can paint it. Unless I _couldn’t_ stop you, of course.” Gabriel smiled knowingly.

“I’ll call Sam and Dean.”

“And tell them what, exactly? That you need them to stop the friendly neighborhood archangel from keeping you company?” Then he added with mock hurt, “I even did your laundry for you.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Gabriel snapped. “I did now. Though… I might have shrunk your whites.”

Chuck glared.

Gabriel gave him an innocent look. “Oops?”

\-----

_Day 6._

“…bottles of beer on the wall, fifty-nine bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, fifty-eight bottles of beer on the wall. Fifty-eight bottles of beer on the wall, fifty-eight bottles of beer! Take one down, pass it around, fifty-seven bottles of beer on the wall…”

\-----

_Day 7._

“Why don’t we just admit some things? And then I can leave, and you can get back to what you’re supposed to be doing on the seventh day.” Gabriel smirked.

Chuck glared at him. “You are _very_ annoying.”

“And whose fault is that?” Gabriel asked with a smug look.

Chuck looked back at the TV.

“C’mon…” Gabriel said, leaning closer to him on the couch. “We both know I know. Just think of it as admitting how completely awesome you made me.”

“All right! Okay. Fine. Yes! I’m God. And yes, you’re the only one sneaky enough to figure it out. Happy?”

“See? Was that so hard?”

“So that’s all you wanted, right?”

“Yep. Just give me a minute to bask in the glow and I’ll be out of your hair. This is the best family reunion I’ve had!”

“Seriously?”

Gabriel nodded. “It didn’t end in bloodshed or someone trapped in a fire circle. Hey, we should have father son bonding time, Earth style. Watch some football.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Chuck said. “I hate doing memory wipes.”

“Yeah, yeah. By the way, your TV sucks.” Gabriel snapped his fingers and a big screen plasma appeared.

Chuck waved a hand and the TV reverted back to having rabbit ears and a wobbly stand. “I like the TV.”

“And I thought _I_ was slumming it,” Gabriel grumbled.

“Well, I always pretended to be human, at least,” Chuck said, with an air of superiority that he managed to pull off even in his pajamas.

“And deadly pranks are so much different than smiting how, exactly?”

Chuck frowned thoughtfully. “Weren’t you supposed to be leaving?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, what’s the deal with Becky?”

“I like Becky. She has a good heart.”

“I’m sure her soul is sparkly clean. But you know who else hooks up with innocent followers?” He pointed a finger emphatically. “Cult leaders.”

Chuck snapped his fingers. “Goodbye, Gabriel.”

Gabriel found himself in Antarctica. “I’m just saying,” he muttered. “Don’t blame me for my awesome sense of humor!”

He turned around to find two researchers from one of the permanent Antarctic bases behind him. Apparently he wasn’t the only one with a sense of humor. 

“ _What_?” Gabriel demanded.

The bundled up men just stared at him from behind their hoods and goggles.

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and then he was holding two steaming mugs. “Hot chocolate?”


	14. Angel Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Castiel is encouraged by everyone to eat.

“I don’t need Cas’ help to cheat—win at pool!”

“I’m just saying.” Sam snickered. “Nifty angel powers could roll the balls right in.”

“And you accuse _me_ of trying to corrupt him,” Dean said.

“You should teach him poker. Forget the mind reading powers—Cas has the perfect poker face. You know, just his normal face.”

“Yeah, either that or he’d announce his cards.”

The waitress appeared and set two plates on the table. Dean spun his around, scooting it closer to Castiel.

“All right, dig in.”

“Into what?”

“Eat something, Cas.”

“I don’t need to—”

“Dude, not the point.” Dean gestured to the table between them as he leaned back against the booth. “Me and Sam got plenty. Pick something and try it.”

“You don’t have to try anything, Cas,” Sam said.

“Yes, he does. I’m sick of him just staring while we eat.”

“Staring at you eat,” Sam muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just that he usually sits next to me, so…”

Castiel looked back and forth between their plates. “I don’t want any red meat.”

“You liked it before,” Dean said, taking a bite of cheeseburger.

“I was not myself.”

“So, never again? You’re missing out, man.”

Castiel looked set. “No. Never.”

“Try my salad, Cas.”

“Don’t sissy him up.”

Sam glared. “He might like it, Dean. Maybe angels like natural things.”

Castiel methodically unwrapped his silverware. He speared a forkful of Sam’s salad and chewed experimentally.

“Well?”

“Interesting,” Castiel announced. “But not appealing.”

“Really?” Sam asked. “Maybe you should try a different part.”

“I don’t want to eat leaves.”

“Good for you, Cas,” Dean said.

“Or dead animals,” Castiel said.

Dean just grunted and took another bite of burger. “Try a fry,” he said after a moment. “You can’t go wrong with French fries.”

Castiel reached across the table and took one from Dean’s plate. He ate it thoughtfully.

“The French fries are acceptable. However, I don’t want another one.”

“I bet you would like fruit,” Sam said.

“Pie. You have to try pie.”

“Don’t mind Dean and his pie obsession.”

“Hey, I’m just saying. Maybe angels like sweet things. Gabriel does.”

“Don’t—” Sam started.

“Don’t what?”

Sam looked around suspiciously and leaned in. “Have you noticed that if you talk about Gabriel, he tends to show up?”

“He shows up whenever he wants, that’s all,” Dean said. “He can’t know what we’re doing because of the sigils. Right, Cas?”

“Correct.”

Sam just looked at him.

“Sam, you’re imagining things. Watch. Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel!”

“What?” Gabriel asked.

“How the hell did you do that?” Dean demanded, doing his best not to jump as Gabriel materialized beside him in the booth.

“My ears were burning,” he said, leaning back in the corner.

“I told you,” Sam said.

“Seriously, how did you do that?”

Gabriel pointed a finger. “I may be an angel, but I _am_ the Trickster. And a good magician never reveals his secrets.”

“Since when are you a magician?” Dean said.

“Since never. Though I was impersonating one last week in Vegas.”

“Seriously?” Sam asked.

“Not on stage or anything. Just on the street and in some lounges.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun? Duh,” Gabriel said. “Street magic stuff is great. Though the people that it’s _really_ fun to freak out are the magicians themselves. Because they know all the rules and how everything’s done. So when you do something they _know_ is impossible, it’s priceless.”

“Just freaking people out? That’s all?”

“Hey, I do know how to have fun without it ending in bloodshed.”

No one said anything.

“Punishing people does get boring, y’know. I couldn’t do that all the time if my life depended on it.”

“Yeah, and remind me why we just let you keep doing that?” Dean asked, turning to face him. “Since it’s our job and all to kill things that hurt people.”

“Because they had it coming? And because I don’t think you really want to anymore. You just think you should.”

“Don’t count on it.”

“Yeah, yeah, tough guy act.” Gabriel nodded. “I got it.”

“I’ll gank you right now!”

Gabriel regarded him coolly. “If you try, I’ll just order Castiel to stop you.”

“Cas rebelled for me once, don’t think he won’t do it again!”

“Don’t make me blow up your angel.”

“Guys!” Sam snapped. “Do I need to separate you? And don’t bring Cas into your turf war.”

As if on cue, everyone looked at Castiel, who had remained silent and was munching on a French fry.

“Thought you said you didn’t want another one,” Dean said.

“They’re strangely compelling.”

“I didn’t even see you move.” Dean looked back at his plate. “Cas, are you _mojo-ing_ French fries off my plate?”

Castiel looked guilty. “Possibly.”

Dean shoved the plate over to Castiel. “Dude, all you had to do was ask.”

“Hey, try this on for size.” Gabriel suddenly grinned, looking as smug as was smugly possible. “Even if you did, God would just bring me back.”

“Yeah, right,” Dean said.

Gabriel examined his nails nonchalantly. “Oh? Didn’t I mention? I found God.”

“What?” Sam asked. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

“Well, you don’t really _need_ God now, do you? Also, He told me not to.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “ _You_? Keeping your mouth shut?”

Gabriel smirked. “This is one secret that’s too much fun to spoil. Plus, it seems to be annoying the crap out of you.”

“How did you find God?” Castiel asked.

“Let’s just say we think alike.”

Dean snorted. “And you think God would be down with your lifestyle choices? All the shit you’ve been up to?”

“He’s _totally_ down with my lifestyle. I’m not exactly the one who invented slumming it, _trust_ me.”

“I searched,” Castiel said, dejected. “Why wouldn’t He let me find Him?”

“Because He’s inscrutable and enigmatic and inebriated and all that.”

Sam’s brows shot up. “Did you say _inebriated_?”

“Only if He wants to be,” Gabriel said defensively. “But the point is it all worked out perfectly in the end. Which is beyond annoying, I know. You get used to it.”

Castiel still looked disappointed. “But I looked for so long.”

“Them’s the breaks. But hey, even though He stayed hidden, Dad must like you a lot. Since He practically gave you permission to stay on Earth with your favorite human. Believe me, that never happens.”

“Dean, you’re his favorite,” Sam teased.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure I’m Cas’ favorite in the history of all eternity.”

“You are,” Castiel said simply.

“Huh.”

“And you’re surprised by this news?” Gabriel asked. “Someone’s a few French fries short.”

“Gabriel is right,” Castiel said. “My Father has granted me a great privilege.”

“Did you two know each other in Heaven?” Sam said, gesturing back and forth between Gabriel and Castiel.

“All angels know of each other,” Castiel said.

“So that’s a no?”

“I have never had such… personal attention from an archangel before,” Castiel said. “It’s strange.”

“You’re just saying that because I’m like a thousand times more awesome than you and I’ve met God,” Gabriel said. “Though I wouldn’t really blow you up, y’know.”

“In Heaven, the archangels’ will was law,” Castiel continued. “They did not associate with angels such as myself.”

“Do you know how hard it is to make friends when you’re an archangel?” Gabriel complained. “No one likes me for me. It’s never about who I am, just what I am.”

Dean ate a French fry, indifferent. “World’s smallest violin, dude.”

“That hurts, Dean,” Gabriel said dramatically, putting a hand to his chest. “Deep down, I’m just a regular guy with phenomenal cosmic powers.”

“Unless you can use those powers for pie, I’m going to get some dessert,” Dean said.

“That was a pathetic attempt at manipulation. But I’ve got the best pie in existence. Or non-existence.”

Gabriel snapped, and a platter with a dozen pieces of pie appeared. They were arranged in a circle, like they had just been cut and separated. Except each slice was a different kind.

“You can’t bring outside food in here,” Sam hissed. “You’re going to get us thrown out.”

“Oh, relax. Dean likes it.”

Dean was staring at the tray like he’d never seen anything more beautiful. “Awesome,” he whispered.

“Dude, you can’t eat all that. You’ll be sick.”

“Cas can help. C’mon, Cas, dig in.”

Sam watched as Dean started in on the piece closest to him and Castiel took the tiniest of bites from another. “So where’s this from?” Sam asked Gabriel. “A bakery in France? The 1700s? Mars?”

“It’s from The Pie Hole.”

Sam frowned. “Why does that sound familiar?”

“It’s on TV.”

“This is pie from TV?”

“Technically, it’s the pie that a certain magical pie maker would make if he were real. That place was fantastic,” Gabriel added. “What? I had to hang out somewhere when I sent you to TV Land. Might as well be somewhere with good eats.”

“Dude, you _cannot_ get Dean hooked on pie that doesn’t exist. We have to live in reality.”

Gabriel waved a hand. “I’m not on speaking terms with reality. What did reality ever do for me?”

“Sammy, you gotta try some,” Dean said. “It’s perfect pie!”

“I like it,” Castiel announced.

“See, even Cas likes it.”

“I think angels must have a sweet tooth,” Sam said.

“Based on your empirical study of two of us?” Gabriel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m just saying.”

Gabriel snapped again, and started eating something white and fluffy. “Angel food cake, anyone?”

Dean chuckled around his mouthful of pie.

Sam shook his head at Gabriel. “You’re funny, I’ll give you that.”

“I’m _hilarious_.”

“What is angel food?” Castiel asked.

“What angels eat,” Gabriel said, deadpan. “Didn’t you get the memo?”

“Ignore him, Cas. Angel food sucks. Stick with the pie.”

“Why is the cake funny?”

“It’s a pun, Cas,” Sam said.

“A pun,” Castiel repeated. “So it’s humorous because the name for this dessert contains the word angel. And we are angels,” he added, just to make sure they realized.

“Yes, already,” Gabriel said. “Geez.”

“I see,” Castiel said.

“Then laugh, Cas.”

“Dean,” Sam said, “the moment is gone. The moment is so far gone that it’s escaped and is running for its life.”

“I said I get it,” Castiel said. “It’s funny,” he added, like they didn’t believe him.

“Alrighty then!” Gabriel snapped his fingers. “Let’s try the laugh riot of devil’s food.”


	15. Crash Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which pop culture is discussed, and Castiel’s education is furthered.

“Gabriel is aggravated.”

That had to win the award for Castiel’s weirdest non sequitur, since they hadn’t seen Gabriel in weeks, and hadn’t even been talking about him.

However, the next second, the bulbs in the light fixture exploded.

“Guys, we have to talk,” Gabriel said.

He appeared between the beds where Sam and Dean were lounging. Castiel was sitting on the end of Dean’s bed.

“I was _using_ that,” Sam said, pointedly looking up at the ceiling.

“What a dump,” Gabriel said. “Only two light bulbs in the whole room.” He snapped, and the lights came back on.

“So what’s the deal?” Dean asked.

Gabriel held up his hand, ticking his fingers off as he spoke. “ _Legion. Constantine. The Prophecy._ ”

“What about them?”

“Why am I always the bad angel?”

“ _This_ is what’s got your panties in a twist?” Dean said. “Oh, boo-hoo. Come talk to me when you and your brother are starring in a book series that people like to write porn about.”

“There is pornography about you?” Castiel said.

Gabriel waved a hand dismissively at Dean. “They don’t know you really exist.”

“They don’t know _you_ really exist.”

“Hey! Millions of people believe in me.”

“And wouldn’t they’d be shocked,” Sam said.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “All those little church going grandmas would have a heart attack if they met the real you. Not exactly on a cloud playing a harp, are we?”

“I still don’t understand the insistence that we have harps,” Castiel said. “Besides, Gabriel is the Trumpeter.”

“Do you have a trumpet?” Sam asked, closing his book.

“No,” Gabriel said, glaring. “It’s metaphorical.”

“Let me guess, this is all because of the little trip you sent Zachariah on?” Dean said.

“What happened to Zachariah in the end?” Castiel asked.

“I sent him back to Michael, with the message that if Zach ever set foot on Earth again, I wouldn’t be held responsible for my actions.”

“When are you ever responsible for your actions?” Castiel said, deadpan.

“Ooh, smack talk from Castiel! Nice timing, by the way,” Gabriel said, pointing a finger. “You’re learning.”

“I wondered who’d been teaching him the one liners,” Sam said thoughtfully. “I thought it was Dean.”

“Gabriel says my grasp of humor is improving,” Castiel said.

“That’s because all Gabriel _is_ is a sense of humor with wings,” Dean mumbled.

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment,” Gabriel said. “Otherwise it wouldn’t end well for you.”

“I think it’s hilarious,” Dean said. “The way they made you in all those movies is like just desserts, right?”

“They loved me during the Renaissance,” Gabriel said. “More Annunciation paintings than you could shake a stick at. But now they’re making me evil.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, it’s like they _know_ or something. As far as I’m concerned, all angels are evil.”

“Except me,” Castiel said.

“Except Cas.”

“I hate pop culture,” Gabriel grumbled, sinking into a chair.

“No, you don’t,” Sam said.

“Fine. I just wish it would appreciate my awesome more. I mean, Lucifer being bad, I get. But me? And Michael’s no saint in real life—he’s the one that wanted to end the world, you know.”

“I don’t understand pop culture,” Castiel said.

“I thought you were taking care of that,” Gabriel said to Dean.

“Castiel’s not ready for pop culture,” Sam said. “We’re not even to the Middle Ages yet.”

Dean made a face. “Sam insists that Cas gets it all in the right order.”

“Human cultural history is most enlightening,” Castiel said.

“Because pop culture is the art of today, Dean,” Sam said in a lecturing tone. “He needs to understand where humanity was before that.”

“Wait until you get to the Renaissance,” Gabriel said to Castiel. “I’m _awesome_.”

“Just a bunch of paintings and poems,” Dean muttered.

“I enjoy seeing Man’s interpretations of God,” Castiel said.

“I guess,” Dean said, shrugging. “If you like it. But whenever Sam’s done explaining the cultural relevance of mass entertainment, we’re watching _Star Wars_.”

“He hasn’t even seen _Star Wars_?” Gabriel said. He turned to Castiel. “As your superior, I _order_ you to watch Star Wars with me.”

Castiel looked pained. “I believe this is what’s known as an abuse of power. Dean?”

“Can’t argue with the archangel on this one. Someone make us popcorn. Use the Force.”

“What is the Force?”

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about,” Gabriel said. “It’s tragic.” He opened his hand and the remote control flew to land in his palm. “We practically are the Force, bro.” Another snap and the TV was a big screen.

“Are we seriously going to have an all night marathon of _Star Wars_?” Sam asked.

“Well, we’re not watching the new Trilogy,” Gabriel said. “That was crap.”

“Does no one else want to sleep tonight?”

“I have no need to sleep,” Castiel said.

“I slept all day,” Dean added.

“You’re all freaks,” Sam muttered.

“It’s _Star Wars_ , Sam,” Gabriel said, like that meant something. “Lighten up, live a little.”

“Watching a nine hour movie is living a little?”

Gabriel waved a hand. “Lighten up, relax a little. Same difference.”

“We should do _Lord of the Rings_ next weekend,” Dean said, munching on popcorn that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “Underdog saves the world, screwing himself up in the process. Sound familiar?”

“ _Dogma_ ,” Gabriel said. “Now that was a great Apocalypse movie.”

“Exiled angels who like to kill,” Dean said. “Sound like anyone we know?”

“I’m not exiled. I’m on vacation.”

“I think Castiel would like the Narnia movies,” Sam said. “They’re basically an allegory.”

“Some allegory,” Gabriel scoffed. “I’m not even in them. Though I always got a kick out of the White Witch.”

“I hate witches,” Dean said.

“Dude, you realize the White Witch is supposed to be Satan?”

“Yes! I’m just saying.”

“I would still like to know what a DeLorean is,” Castiel said. “And why Dean compared me to one.”

“Okay, that’s just wrong,” Gabriel said. “An angel is more like a TARDIS.” He held up his fingers as he continued. “We can go any place, any time. We’re too fabulous for the human brain to comprehend. And we’re bigger on the inside.”


	16. This is Our Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabriel mocks his glory days, and Dean doesn’t know what to do with Castiel.

“Cancun was _awesome_ , Sammy. You should have come. The babes were smoking hot.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Sam said as Dean and Gabriel appeared in the room. “What’s the deal with you two, anyway? You keep popping off together.”

“Hey, I dug his style when we thought he was a trickster. The man knows how to have a good time.”

“All I _do_ is have a good time,” Gabriel said.

“You two are way too alike,” Sam said, leaning back on the bed and looking at his laptop. “You’re either sniping at each other or making the same jokes.”

“Don’t knock it. I won two hundred dollars in a drinking contest last week.”

“You didn’t win, Dean. You cheated using angel powers.”

“Technically,” Gabriel said, “ _I_ cheated by using angel powers _on_ him.”

“And since when do you care about cheating?” Dean asked. “We used to fake being drunk all the time to hustle pool. And Gabriel’s like the perfect second guy.”

Gabriel nodded. “I look completely non-threatening. And incompetent.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose. “You’re saying you’re incompetent?”

“I said I can _look_ incompetent. It’s a trick,” he said, making a ‘duh’ face.

“Dean didn’t want Cas’ help cheat at pool,” Sam said.

“That’s cause I can _play_ pool, Sam,” Dean said. “And Cas can’t read people.”

“He can read minds!”

“But for some reason, he still can’t read people. And anyway, drinking a lot without getting drunk is just plain _awesome_.”

“I don’t know how you mortals stand it,” Gabriel said. “You get drunk _way_ too fast. Bor-ing.”

“Besides,” Dean said reasonably, “this beats doing credit card fraud.”

“See?” Gabriel asked. “I’m keeping your brother on the straight and narrow.”

“If you really wanted to help, you’d snap us up some hundreds,” Sam said.

“Please,” Gabriel said. “What fun would that be? This way, you get money and I get to screw with people. It’s win win!”

“Where’s Cas?” Dean asked.

“I dunno,” Sam said. “He took off after you left.”

“Huh.” Dean frowned.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said, sitting down at the table.

“Your angel ditched you, huh?” Gabriel said.

“Cas is his own angel.”

“ _Sure_ he is.”

Gabriel flopped on the bed that Sam wasn’t on. He crossed his arms over his head.

It was silent for a moment. “So,” Gabriel said. “I guess we’re having a quiet night in?”

“Dude, we just got back from Cancun.”

“I guess,” he grumbled. However, Gabriel made no move to leave.

“So are you staying?” Sam asked.

“Hey, I can entertain myself,” Gabriel said, sounding offended.

Sam pointedly didn’t look back over, sure that Gabriel was about to snap up something weird and annoying.

Gabriel just opened the nightstand drawer and pulled a book out.

“Is that the _Bible_?” Sam said.

Gabriel smirked and opened the book. “I feel like reminiscing. And having a good laugh.”

The next ten minutes were filled with the sound of flipping pages and intermittent comments from Gabriel.

“Well, this is just not true.”  
.  
.  
“A blatant lie.”  
.  
.  
“Come _on_ , they just made that up!”  
.  
.  
“Huh. Though, you know, this actually gets us down pretty well. Everyone was totally freaked out and terrified when angels came calling. Yet somehow, people today think we’re all fluffy and caring.”

“Yeah, how about that?” Dean muttered.

“Also, what’s the deal with people wanting miracles at Christmas?”

“Like you do miracles.”

Gabriel looked at Dean. “Hey, I’m an archangel—everything I do is a miracle by default. Vintage wine into Fresca? Miracle. Goldfish into shark? Miracle. Prized Porsche into Hot Wheels toy? Miracle.”

“But do you ever do _nice_ miracles?” Sam said. “You know, giving good people good things.”

“Sometimes. At Halloween.”

“Halloween? Why?”

“Cause nobody expects a miracle on Halloween. And it’s ironic. You know, godless day, blah, blah, blah.” Gabriel rolled his eyes and went back to the Bible.

A few minutes went by before he laughed loudly.

“Hey, I’d almost forgotten about this! Okay, so check this out. I was bringing glad tidings of whatever about the birth of a kid—”

“Do you mean Jesus?” Sam asked.

“No.”

“John the Baptist?”

“Whatever. Let me get to the good part. So I give him the whole spiel, and he’s all ‘how will I know?’ And it’s like, you’ll know when the freaking baby shows up, are you not paying attention? And did you miss the part where I’m the Messenger?”

“Cause angels _never_ lie,” Dean muttered.

Gabriel rolled his eyes again. “Anyway, he pissed me off. So then _I_ said—” he held the Bible up to read “—‘You shall be silent and not able to speak until the day that these things shall be performed, because you did not believe my words’.”

“You took his voice away?” Dean asked.

“It’s a great catchall punishment.”

“Were you _supposed_ to make him mute if he didn’t believe you?” Sam said.

Gabriel waved a hand. “It’s called artistic license.”

“Artistic license,” Sam repeated. “With orders from God?”

“You can see why I decided the whole gig just wasn’t for me.”

Gabriel flipped a few more pages. A moment later, he groaned. “‘For with God nothing shall be impossible’? I can’t believe I said that.” He slammed the book shut. “This thing is like looking at a high school yearbook. Fun, but completely embarrassing.”

Dean stood. “Okay, this is too weird, even for us.”

“What?” Sam asked.

“You _don’t_ think an archangel reading out loud from the Bible about shit that he did while providing commentary is weird?”

“It could be less weird,” Sam agreed.

“Things used to be nice and simple. Weird, maybe, but simple. I knew what to expect, knew where I stood.” He waved his hands. “And now we’ve got the powers of the universe hanging out in our living room—”

“The motel’s living room,” Gabriel put in.

“—our living room for now. And I’ve got slightly less powerful powers of the universe deciding for some reason to stick around for the rest of eternity, and then thinking I’ve got some problem with them—”

“Wait, are you talking about Cas?” Sam asked.

“ _No_. He’s probably just out taking a walk. A fly. Whatever.”

“Did something happen with Cas?”

“No! I’m going for a drive,” Dean growled.

The door slammed behind him.

“I think something happened with Cas,” Gabriel said in a stage whisper. Then he made a face. “Man, that leaves a bad taste in your mouth. ‘Cas.’ Only Dean would have the cheek to rename an angel. We were personally named by God, y’know.”

“Nicknames are just his way of being friendly.”

“I’m surprised Castiel put up with it, friendly or not. Especially in the beginning.”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe Cas liked it.”

“Sounds like they have a problem now.”

“About what?”

“Fucked if I know. Or care.”

Sam shrugged. “So, why _are_ you still here? We kind of thought this was going to be an Apocalypse only thing.”

“Do you know how hard it is to find like-minded individuals when you’re limited to supernatural beings or clueless humans?”

“So, what you’re saying is, we’re like your friends now?”

“You two grew on me. So sue me.” Gabriel picked up the Bible again. “But call me Gabe and I’ll kill you slowly.”

\-----

“Cas. Hey, I’m in the motel’s parking lot, and—”

Castiel appeared beside Dean in the Impala.

“—I wanted to talk to you.” Dean shut his phone.

“Yes, Dean?”

“Look—” Dean started and then stopped. “We have a problem I don’t know about? There a reason you’re giving me the cold shoulder?”

Castiel looked puzzled. “I perceived that you had the problem.”

“Well, I don’t. So now that we’ve cleared that up—”

“You object to any assistance I offer.”

“That’s not a problem,” Dean said, sighing. “We’ve been over this, Cas. You know we want to hunt things ourselves.”

“I’m not talking about hunting,” Castiel said.

“So what are you talking about? Tonight? You could have come along. What, you don’t like me hanging out with Gabriel?”

“Why would I be upset that you and Gabriel are getting along?” Castiel asked. “But I would take you someplace if you wanted. I’ve offered.”

“Yeah, I bet you’d take me anywhere I wanted,” Dean muttered.

“Yes.”

“That’s the _point_ , Cas. I’m not just using you for every little thing. You’re not a global delivery service.”

Castiel frowned. “Are you not using Gabriel?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “That’s what Gabriel is _for_. He comes and goes and snaps his fingers like it’s going out of style. But—but I don’t want you to think that angel mojo is the only reason we’re keeping you around, all right?” he finished in a rush.

“I believe I am keeping myself around,” Castiel said carefully.

“And why the hell are you staying? Sure, I figured you’d hang around for a while, maybe, but you’d leave eventually. Everyone does.”

“I am not.”

“Why?”

Castiel just looked at him, patented head tilt and looking-into-your-soul stare. “You need to ask?”

And okay, maybe Dean didn’t actually want to hear the answer to that question right now.

“So you wouldn’t get annoyed if I started asking you to mojo me all over the planet?”

Castiel almost smiled. “Dean, ‘mojo-ing’ you somewhere is no more taxing to me than giving someone a ride in your car is to you.”

“Not an abuse of power, then?”

“Did you think Sam was abusing my power when we went to the Louvre?”

“Well, that’s _Sam_ ,” Dean said, with his ‘Sam-is-a-giant-girl look.’ “But I wouldn’t go there, anyway.”

“What was it you said, that I should see what I saved? Why shouldn’t you?”

“Look, I’m a simple guy. I don’t need much, y’know? I wouldn’t even know where to start. Hell, even with Gabriel, I only went to _Mexico_ to go _drinking_.”

“I’ll find you someplace simple.”

Castiel said it like a promise.

“Okay,” Dean finally said. “Who knows, could be fun. But I still don’t think you appreciate how freaky it is knowing that all I have to do is ask for something and an angel will do it.”

“Yet you ask for nothing that you don’t need. Nothing for yourself.” Castiel paused. “You say ‘simple.’ I say ‘good.’”

Dean glanced away. “I’m not special, Cas.”

And Castiel was back to the soul-searching stare. “Why do you continue to think you deserve nothing? You give your life to protect others. You stopped what no one else in Heaven or Earth could.”

Dean held up a hand. “Dude, I’ll go on a trip with you, but no more chick flick moments.”

“It’s the truth.”

“I mean it,” Dean said, shaking a finger.

The corner of Castiel’s mouth turned up in a barely there smirk. “Perhaps we should watch a chick flick, so I know what to avoid.”

“You and Samantha can get right on that,” Dean said. “So, are we going someplace or what?”

Castiel moved a hand, two fingers raised. “We are.”


	17. Old Time Religion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabriel is annoyed by televangelists.

“Someone should teach him a lesson.”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Sam muttered.

Gabriel gestured toward the TV. He was lying on a bed and flipping through hundreds of channels, none of which the motel got.

Sam looked over. “Televangelists? Really?”

“They’re just so _annoying_. And they’re always going on about the End of Days being right around the corner. Please.”

“It actually _was_ the End of Days.”

“Well, _they_ don’t know that,” Gabriel said, rolling his eyes. “And they’re so worried about the Antichrist walking among them.”

“We met the Antichrist.”

“He’s a nice kid. Oh, and Jesus has been back on Earth for _years_ , so He’s not actually ‘returning’. Why are all you people so ready for the End?”

“I guess Paradise sounds like a good idea, in theory.”

Gabriel looked back at the TV. “Someone should tell them that Lucifer is actually _dead_ , and that the Apocalypse isn’t coming, ever.”

Sam snickered. “I’m sure it’s in the Winchester Gospel. They should talk to Chuck.”

“I would _love_ for them to talk to Chuck. Hey, maybe I’ll go give them a little personal revelation. Haven’t done that in a few millennia.”

“Yeah, that’s not a good idea.”

“You just have no sense of humor.” Gabriel pointed with the remote control. “This guy is acting like he can heal people. And this guy—” he went up a channel “—he has three houses and is still talking about living a simple, pious life.”

Sam watched for a moment as the guy went on about the troubled times of today. He was live from some huge hall somewhere. He walked back and forth across the stage, holding his microphone with one hand and gesturing with the other.

At least until he tripped on a misplaced cord and fell flat on his face.

Gabriel was grinning.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You did that, didn’t you?”

“I’m shocked, Sam. Shocked and hurt at these accusations.”

“You reached out and tripped him from states away.”

Gabriel shrugged, still grinning. “Pride goeth before a fall.”

It was at this moment that Dean and Castiel arrived.

“So where did you go?” Gabriel asked.

“Around,” Dean said, glaring. “Why is he still here? It’s been a whole day.”

“He says he likes it here,” Sam said. 

“ _He_ can hear you, you know,” Gabriel said.

“So where did Cas take you?” Sam asked Dean.

“Places.”

“Did he take you to Paris?” Gabriel asked. “I hope he took you to Paris. It’s the romance capital of the world.”

“I didn’t realize,” Castiel said. “Perhaps we should—”

“Why would I want to go to the romance capital?” Dean said.

“Of course,” Castiel said, like he understood perfectly.

“We should all go to church,” Gabriel said. “It would be hilarious.”

“I don’t trust you not to make a scene,” Dean said. “And I never went to church, and I’m not starting now.”

“You won’t even go to church for angels?” Gabriel asked with mock hurt.

“Talk to Sam—he’s the one that prays.”

“Used to,” Sam said. “Dean’s been to Hell; we’ve both been to Heaven—”

“We’ve got archangels who _won’t leave_ ,” Dean cut in, shooting a look at Gabriel.

“So I think we’re way past religious,” Sam said. “It’s not so much believing as knowing at this point.”

“Why pray, anyway?” Dean said. “No one up there does shit.”

“And Dean already has someone watching over him,” Castiel said, sounding faintly smug.

“Besides, no one can hear us because of the sigils,” Sam said. “Well, I guess maybe God could.”

“He’s kind of a recluse these days,” Gabriel said. “Doesn’t want to be bothered. Did I tell you He sent me to Antarctica?”

“Yeah, I bet it took you all of half a second to get back,” Dean said. “Harsh.”

“You guys suck the fun out of everything. Hey, Castiel, wanna go to church?”

Castiel looked perplexed. “Why would I need someone to explain God’s word to me? Their version is incorrect, anyway.”

“That’s the part that’s _fun_. Haven’t you ever played a drinking game? Every time the priest says something wrong, you take a drink.”

“I am never drinking again.”

Gabriel waved a hand dismissively. “That’s just because you’re a lousy drunk.” Then he stood. “I’m out of here.” 

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

Gabriel pointed to the TV. “There.” He smirked. “I’m going to get faith healed.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Dean said. “The last faith healer we ran into had a reaper.”

“Nah, this guy’s just a phony.” Gabriel disappeared.

Dean sat down on the bed in front of the TV.

“You’re watching?” Sam asked. “Seriously?”

“Dude, this could be quality entertainment.”


	18. In Plain Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabriel hunts down Chuck at a Supernatural convention.

“I can’t believe you’re attending one of these things.”

Chuck didn’t even blink at Gabriel’s appearance beside him. “I have followers here.”

“You have followers lots of places. I’ll say it again—and I thought _I_ was slumming it.”

“It doesn’t matter where I am. I don’t interfere.”

Gabriel laughed. “You call setting yourself up as a prophet not interfering? Just admit it—we’re both on permanent vacation.”

Chuck straightened the collar of his unstylish jacket. “Why are you here, Gabriel?”

“You’re joking, right? Because it’s hilarious.” Gabriel looked around the room with interest. “Think anyone is dressed up as me?”

“No one knows who you are.”

“Which is a tragedy. I know the internet would appreciate my awesomeness. Though I suppose they at least know who the Trickster is.”

Chuck didn’t comment, but just waved at Becky from across the hall.

“I think you actually encourage her,” Gabriel said.

“Nope, it’s all her.”

Gabriel crossed his arms. “I would say she’s delusional, except that she’s the only one in the room who knows it’s real.”

Becky started over.

“Be good,” Chuck warned.

“Hey, why don’t you introduce me as your son? Oh, oh—snap me back to Antarctica right in front of her. That would be good.”

“You know I’m not going to do that,” Chuck said through clenched teeth as he waited for Becky.

“Right, because it’s public. You have to be nice. Or do a memory wipe, or turn back time. Which you hate.”

“You’re very good at scheming.”

“Just using what you gave me.”

Becky reached them and gave Chuck a quick kiss on the cheek. “Everything’s going really well! Your Q&A is at eleven, and then we have the panel on world building. And at four you and your publisher are judging the cosplay!”

Chuck grimaced. “Becky, I said no judging.”

“But you love judging,” Gabriel spoke up.

Becky frowned at him. “Only staff is supposed to be in this area.”

“Oh, I’m not attending,” Gabriel assured her. “I’m just an old friend of Chuck’s.”

“Very old,” Chuck muttered.

“But I have read some of the books,” Gabriel said. “Quite the writer we have here.” He slapped Chuck on the back. Chuck glowered.

Becky grinned at Gabriel. “Oh my God, isn’t it such a _great_ story? Who’s your favorite, Sam or Dean?”

“I’m more of an angel kind of guy.”

Becky nodded enthusiastically. “I think the angel story line would be really popular. It’s too bad we can’t get the later books published. But how do you know about the angels?”

“I’ve run into the real Sam and Dean a few times. And some angels.”

“You know what? I tried to get Sam and Dean here, but they wouldn’t come this year! Can you _believe_ that?”

Gabriel’s brows shot up. “They came last year?”

“She tricked them,” Chuck said.

Gabriel smiled. “A lady after my own heart.”

“You should totally stay for the con,” Becky said. “It’s going to be awesome! Since you’re a friend of Chuck’s—he really doesn’t have any friends—”

“Becky!” Chuck hissed.

“—a friend, I can give you a VIP badge!” she finished.

“I would love a VIP badge,” Gabriel said.

“Be right back!”

Chuck turned to glare at Gabriel. “I’m going to get you for this.”

“Oh, come on.” Gabriel waved a hand. “We both know you never did your own getting. You sent me to do it. Or Michael. And unless you decide to pop back home, I don’t think he’s going to be taking any orders from _you_.”

“Why are you here? Really?”

Gabriel pursed his lips. “Would you believe me if I said that it seemed like the best way to get in the same room with you without one of us disappearing or making the other one disappear?”

Chuck stared at him. “Possibly.”

“Then that’s possibly why I’m here.” Gabriel shrugged. “Look, I’m not going to blow your cover. And I get the leaving thing, believe me. Michael may have been the first, and Lucifer may have been the favorite, but you and me? We’re the most alike. Look how we ended up.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Earth.”

“Did I say there was? I’m just saying it’s not the location of choice for most of us.”

“Okay.”

Gabriel frowned. “That’s it? ‘Okay’?”

“Okay.” Chuck shrugged. “Enjoy your front row seats.”

“Oh, I _always_ get a front row seat.”

“I’ve noticed. And Gabriel?”

“Hmm?”

Chuck smirked. “Since you haven’t read all the books, I should warn you.”

“About what?”

“You might hear spoilers.”


	19. Field Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gabriel comes back to the motel after attending the convention with Chuck.

“Where’s your brother?”

“Out with Cas,” Sam said, not looking up as Gabriel appeared.

Gabriel sat down on the opposite side of the table. “Guess where I’ve been.”

“No.”

“Guess.”

“Tokyo.”

“No. You’ll never guess.”

“Then why did you _ask_?” Sam said, glaring.

Gabriel leaned back in his chair. “I went to a convention. Put on by a very special friend of yours.”

It took Sam a minute to get it, but then he said, “Oh, God.”

“Exactly.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. Relax,” Gabriel said. “I was strictly an observer. The whole thing is hilarious.”

“Yeah, it’s a real riot,” Sam deadpanned.

“Though I gotta say, there’s a level of crazy there that even surprises _me_.”

“Becky?”

“Among others.”

“I guess I get the whole fan experience thing. But—” Sam shifted uncomfortably “—it’s creepy how she keeps treating me like a character when she’s actually _met_ me. At least Chuck had the good manners to be weirded out.”

“Them’s the breaks when you’re famous.”

“Yeah? And who do you have writing bizarre internet stories about you?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “They use me all over the place in movies, not to mention probably every other book featuring angels.”

“It’s just annoying,” Sam finally said.

“Yep.”

“So what did you actually _do_ at the convention?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Followed the prophet around. Oh, and I had a free hour, so I read all the books.” He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. “Go on, quiz me.”

“Dude, I’m not quizzing you on _our lives_.”

“But I even brought you presents.” Gabriel snapped his fingers. “Look, a ‘Winchester’ bumper sticker.”

“Dean will kill you if you put that on the Impala.”

“Here’s an Impala coffee mug! And an anti-possession key chain.”

Sam peered at the key chain. “Did they make a real charm without knowing it?”

“Beats me. Wanna test it?”

“No.”

“ _And_ I brought assorted reading material,” Gabriel said.

Sam glanced at the handful of books that appeared. “Dean hates that one,” he said, pointing. “He says he’s full frontal in it.”

“Huh. I’ll save that one for Castiel.”


	20. Joy to the Winchesters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is haunted mistletoe, text messages from Jesus, shockingly practical gifts from Gabriel, surprise Christmas trips, and banter. Lots of banter.

“Dean, this could be a chance for us to have a normal Christmas.”

“When have we ever had a normal Christmas?” Dean asked from his bed. “Even if we’re not fighting for our lives, it just ends up being shitty.”

Sam sighed. “You’re the one that wanted to do Christmas last time.”

“And see what happened? We were almost eaten by pagan gods.”

“That wasn’t because of our Christmas. That was just bad timing.” Sam hovered over the bed, directing a puppy look at Dean. “Come on, Dean. No Apocalypse, no ghosts, no demons, no angels—”

“Except the one,” Dean said.

“Except the one,” Sam agreed, glancing to where Castiel sat at the table. “It’s a great time for an actual Christmas.”

“With what?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. “A Charlie Brown reject tree and a string of lights from the dollar store? It’s already Christmas Eve, anyway.”

Sam turned around. “Wouldn’t you like to have Christmas, Cas?”

Castiel didn’t look up from the book he was reading. “If you wish.”

“Cas, what’s on your head?”

“What?”

Sam got closer. “Dude, you’ve got a—” He gestured vaguely to the top of his own head.

Now Dean was getting up. “Is that _mistletoe_?”

“Is it?” Castiel asked, perplexed. He reached above his head, frowning when he encountered the leaves that were hovering three inches over his head. “I cannot remove it.”

Dean reached out, grabbing the mistletoe and tugging. “Dude, it’s stuck tight.”

“Stuck to _what_?” Sam said. 

“Maybe we should shoot it.”

“Is it haunted mistletoe?” Sam asked.

“Where do you get haunted mistletoe?” Dean said.

“You have to create it yourself,” Gabriel said, appearing on the bed behind them. “It’s a special recipe. It’ll go away if someone kisses him.”

“Gabriel,” Dean said. “You did this?”

“Maaaaybe.”

“Take it off!”

“That’s what _you’re_ supposed to say to _him_.”

“This is ridiculous,” Dean said.

“Gabriel, remove it,” Castiel growled.

“Geez. All right already.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “No one around here has a sense of humor.” He snapped his fingers, and the mistletoe vanished. “I was just trying to give you a helpful hint. As usual.”

“Why are you here?” Sam asked.

Gabriel stood. “I come bearing glad tidings, blah, blah, blah.”

“Really?”

“No.” He held up a hand. “But I do come with the offer of a Christmas excursion.”

“An excursion?” Sam asked suspiciously.

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and Sam and Dean found themselves in a snow-covered expanse of nothingness. The sun hovered at the edge of the horizon.

“Where are we?” Sam sputtered.

“The North Pole. Neat, huh?”

Castiel appeared. “Dean does not wish to go to the North Pole.”

“How do you know?” Gabriel said.

“It’s obvious.” 

Castiel put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and they disappeared.

Gabriel snapped Dean back.

“You didn’t even give it a chance,” Gabriel said.

“Stop playing angel tug of war with me!” Dean growled. Then he looked around. “This is a frozen wasteland. There’s nothing here to give a chance.”

“There’s a pole.”

Dean and Sam turned around. There was a five foot high, red and white striped pole sticking out of the ice.

“What’s that?” Sam asked.

“The North Pole,” Gabriel said, satisfied. “I just installed it.”

“Super,” Dean said. “Okay, I’ve seen enough. Cas?”

Dean and Castiel disappeared.

“So… we’re actually at the North Pole?” Sam said.

“Yep. That’s it. Exact center of everything.”

Sam frowned. “Actually, we’ve probably already drifted several feet, since we’re just on ice.”

Gabriel glared.

“I’m just saying. So why am I not freezing to death?”

“Hello? Archangel?”

“Huh.” Sam looked around them. “This is actually pretty neat.”

When Gabriel snapped them back to the motel room, Dean frowned at Sam.

“Why didn’t you make him bring you right back?” he asked.

Sam sighed. “It was the North Pole, Dean. It was sort of cool.”

“See?” Gabriel said. “Sam liked it.” He looked at Dean. “You’ve got an angel at your disposal. It’s beyond me why you don’t want to go anywhere.”

“Cas is not at my disposal,” Dean said, glaring.

Gabriel shook his head. “Any place, any time, and this is what you do.”

“You go back in time?” Sam said.

“Mostly I make do with whatever’s going on here.”

“The entire _world_ is ‘making do’ for him,” Dean said.

“I left the North Pole there,” Gabriel said, answering the question no one asked. “It should freak out whatever expedition is up there next.”

“Why are you here?” Dean said.

“Would you believe that my pagan friends really aren’t down with the whole Christmas thing? They have this grudge with it for some reason.” Gabriel shrugged. “And someone needs to appreciate my ability to celebrate it in style.”

“And you came to us?”

“Bingo. You clearly _don’t_ know how to celebrate in style,” Gabriel said, pointedly looking around the motel room. “It’s sad, really.”

“Look,” Dean said. “We’re not flying off to Times Square, or an alpine village, or wherever else the fuck you celebrate in style.”

“I’m sure Gabriel can do something more traditional,” Castiel said.

“Come on, Dean,” Sam said. “Real Christmas, normal Christmas.”

“With him?” Dean asked, pointing at Gabriel.

Gabriel looked at him with mock hurt. “I’ll be good.”

Dean sighed, throwing his hands up. “Yeah, okay. Whatever.”

“Well,” Gabriel said, looking around the room, “Even _I_ can’t work with this without putting it into another dimension. We need to relocate.”

“Relocate?” Dean said. But by the time he got it out, they were already standing somewhere else.

It was a huge, dark, freezing room.

There was another ripple in the air, and Castiel appeared. “Please stop leaving me behind,” he said to Gabriel.

Gabriel shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d want me to fly for you.”

“Where are we?” Sam asked.

“An abandoned Victorian house in New England,” Gabriel said.

“Wonderful,” Dean muttered.

“Gimme a minute.”

Gabriel snapped and the lights came on. Another snap and there was a fire in the fireplace and the room was warm. Another snap and the room no longer looked like squirrels had been living there.

“Getting better,” Dean said grudgingly.

“Furniture would be nice,” Sam suggested.

Two couches and a large wooden table appeared.

Gabriel flopped on a couch. “Okay, gang, this is it. Only this room is enchanted, and it’ll end when the last one of us leaves.”

“Won’t someone notice the house all lit up?” Dean asked.

“They’ll see an illusion.” Gabriel looked around the room. “If we’re going to do Christmas right, we need a tree.”

“Aren’t trees really sort of a pagan tradition?” Sam said.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “And this would bother me why, exactly?”

He snapped, and a fully decorated tree appeared, followed by garlands and lights over the mantle and the doorway arches.

“Christmas is just an excuse for an awesome party,” Gabriel said.

Dean sat down, glancing up at Castiel. “Do angels even celebrate Christmas?”

“We were created long before the birth of Jesus.”

“So that’s a no?”

“Correct,” Castiel said. “And in Heaven, we don’t measure time as you do.”

“So all this doesn’t really matter to you?” Dean asked.

“It matters to you,” Castiel said meaningfully.

Castiel sat down next to Dean, leaving Sam to sit beside Gabriel.

“Jesus was born in the spring, anyway,” Sam said. “Right?”

“More or less,” Gabriel said.

“So when exactly do you think that was?” Sam asked, going for casual.

“Nice try. Though that reminds me…” Gabriel muttered. He took out his phone and started tapping away.

“What are you doing?”

“Texting Jesus.”

“Jesus,” Sam repeated.

“I’m wishing him a merry unbirthday. It’s a thing we do.” Gabriel looked up. “Hey, I could probably get him here.”

“No,” Dean said firmly.

“Dean, are you kidding?” Sam said. “You don’t want to meet Jesus?”

“I’ve had it up to here with religious figures showing up on our doorstep. Anyway, look what _archangels_ turned out to be like,” Dean said, gesturing to Gabriel.

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

Dean continued. “Jesus is probably some weed smoking hippie who drives a flower van.”

“But—” Sam said.

“Sam, you want to meet Jesus, you do it on your own time.”

“We could do the whole Christmas Carol thing,” Gabriel said. “I could go for some time travel.”

“Forget it,” Dean said. “I know what the past was, we’re in the present, and I’m _not_ doing another angelic trip to the future.”

“Let’s just stick with a traditional Christmas,” Sam said.

“So what _do_ you do?” Gabriel asked.

“Well, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” Sam said. “We’re _not_ doing the usual crap we get at Christmas.”

“No microwave dinners,” Dean said.

“No killing anything,” Sam said.

“No pagan gods,” Dean continued.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“Except the one,” Sam said. “No Apocalypse.”

“No stolen Christmas presents,” Dean said.

“You should not steal Christmas presents,” Castiel said, frowning.

Sam snickered. “Yeah, especially if you don’t know what’s inside.”

“That happened _once_ ,” Dean said. 

“Geez,” Gabriel said. “Didn’t you have any fun?”

Sam looked thoughtful. “There was one year that Dad drove us around at night and let me look at Christmas lights. Though I think we also had Christmas dinner at McDonald’s that year. But I remember the lights.”

Gabriel stood. “Well, a real Christmas dinner I can do.”

He snapped his fingers, and the table was covered with a full dinner and all the trimmings.

Dean jumped up. “Awesome.”

They were quickly seated, and Dean started to reach for the turkey.

“Perhaps we should say grace,” Castiel said.

Dean’s brows shot up. “You’re joking, right? Seriously?”

“Is that not the custom? And I am thankful for what my Father has allowed me.”

Gabriel made a long-suffering look. Then dramatically clasping his hands and staring straight ahead, he quickly rattled off: “Our Father who art on Earth, boozing it up and living in sin, Give us this our daily bread, which I just created, And lead us not into temptation, because Lucifer is dead. Castiel says hi. Amen.”

Dean snorted. “Best prayer ever. Sorry, Cas.”

They all started eating, except for Castiel, who stared at all of the dishes skeptically.

“You should try the turkey,” Dean said. “Or the ham.”

“Why is there turkey _and_ ham, anyway?” Sam asked.

“Don’t knock it, dude.”

“No meat,” Castiel said, looking indifferently at the table. He eyed the vegetable dishes with equal disinterest.

“Here, Cas,” Sam said. “Try the bread.”

Castiel ate a roll, and was then persuaded to try the mashed potatoes.

“I believe I prefer French fries,” he announced.

“You can’t have French fries for Christmas dinner,” Sam said. 

“Cas can have French fries if he wants,” Dean said. He leveled his gaze at Gabriel. “Give him some fries.”

Gabriel sighed, but the next instant, Castiel’s mashed potatoes had been replaced with French fries.

“Junk food is an angel thing,” Sam said. “It has to be.”

“Speaking of,” Gabriel said, “Save room for dessert. I’ve got nine kinds of pie.”

Dean got a glassy look on his face. “Awesome,” he mouthed.

Sam stared at Dean. “Dude, you look like you’ve died and gone to Heaven.”

“This is _way_ better than actual Heaven,” Dean said. “What’s up with that reliving memories crap, anyway?”

“Tell me about it,” Gabriel said. “Personally, I always thought you should be able to manifest whatever you want in your Heaven, but does anyone listen to me? Nooooo.”

After a moment of silent eating, Sam said, “You know, this is really nice.”

“I think we’ve covered that,” Dean said.

“No, I mean it really is. The house, the tree, the dinner—there’s even snow outside.”

“That wasn’t me,” Gabriel said.

“We should have a snowball fight,” Dean said.

Sam actually dropped his fork. “Have you lost your mind?”

“What’s the matter, Sammy? You afraid of losing?”

“I’m afraid _someone_ might do something like make the abominable snowman real.”

“You can be on my team, then,” Gabriel said.

“I can make snow angels,” Castiel stated.

“Uh-huh,” Dean said.

“With my wings,” he said, looking pleased.

“He was drunk when I explained it to him,” Gabriel said.

Castiel frowned. “I still don’t see why I should move my arms when I have actual wings.”

Gabriel pursed his lips thoughtfully. “It was a pretty awesome snow angel, I’ll give you that.”

“Hey, is Santa real?” Sam blurted.

“Sam, come on,” Dean said.

“There actually was a guy back in the day,” Gabriel said. “Sort of supernatural. Used to give kids gifts based on how good they’d been.”

“What about the anti-Claus?” Sam said.

Gabriel snorted. “You believe in the anti-Claus?”

“ _No_ ,” Sam said. “I’m just asking.”

“You know,” Gabriel said, “Santa would sort of be like a trickster. He gives coal to people who deserve it.”

“ _Santa_ never killed anyone,” Dean said.

Gabriel waved a hand. “If you’re gonna get technical about it. So who wants dessert?”

Dessert lasted almost as long as dinner had. Sam noticed that Castiel was much more enthusiastic about the pies and cakes that Gabriel made.

“I _know_ angels have a sweet tooth,” he muttered.

It was only after Dean officially couldn’t eat any more that they all returned to sit in front of the tree. Sam had already stopped eating, and Gabriel and Castiel could probably eat forever.

Dean sat heavily next to Sam. “That dinner would have cost a whole night’s pool money.”

“Who wants hot chocolate?” Gabriel asked, settling on the couch next to Castiel.

“Later,” Dean said.

“How can you even move?” Sam asked him.

“How can you let good food go to waste?”

A few minutes passed in silence.

“I think we’ve stared at the tree long enough,” Gabriel said, bored. “Time for presents.”

“We don’t have any presents,” Castiel said.

“We have stockings full of candy,” Gabriel said.

Dean turned to Sam. “I did get you something, but it’s back at the motel.”

“Ditto,” Sam said.

“Here,” Gabriel said. Sam and Dean’s gifts appeared in their hands. They switched the presents and opened them at the same time.

Gabriel smirked. “You gave each other knives. That’s not phallic at all.”

Dean shot Gabriel a death glare.

“Knives are useful,” Castiel said.

“Yeah,” Dean added. “You know, for _killing things_.”

“Yes, we know.” Gabriel held up a finger. “But I have presents.”

“I’m kind of afraid to ask,” Sam said.

“You’re so paranoid.” Gabriel snapped his fingers, and a box appeared in Sam’s hands.

Sam gaped as he turned the box over. “Is this what’s inside?” he asked, staring at the writing.

“Yep.”

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“It’s a laptop. Like a custom-built, designer laptop. Wow.”

“And you,” Gabriel said, pointing at Dean, “I just put new tires on your car. Top of the line.” 

“There’s no catch?”

“I’m wounded. I’m just spreading holiday cheer.”

“Well, thanks then,” Dean said slowly. Then he frowned. “You know, something seems very familiar about this.”

Gabriel looked smug. “I thought it was fitting, since that’s what I destroyed the first time we ran into each other.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Dean said.

“Those were the days,” Gabriel said, nostalgic.

“Real nice trip down memory lane. You also tried to cut Sam up with a chainsaw.”

“I wasn’t _really_ trying.”

“Right.”

Gabriel shot him a dark look. “He’s still in one piece, isn’t he?”

“This laptop is awesome,” Sam said.

Gabriel’s phone beeped, and he pulled it out. He stared at the screen for a second, then said, “Anyone want to crash midnight mass at the Vatican?”

“Are you serious?” Sam asked. “What do you mean by ‘crash’?”

“Well, you’ll have to find out, won’t you? Jesus is coming,” he added.

“It’s past midnight _here_ ,” Sam pointed out.

“Time travel,” Gabriel said.

Dean stared at Sam, who was looking tempted. “You actually want to go?”

“It’s the _Vatican_ , Dean,” Sam said. “And midnight mass—”

“With an _archangel_ ,” Gabriel interrupted.

“—yeah, I think it would be neat.”

Castiel spoke. “I believe it would be pleasant to spend Christmas in the house of the Lord.”

“You didn’t want to go to church with me before,” Gabriel complained.

“That was different.”

“Although,” Gabriel said, “you do _not_ want to spend Christmas in the _actual_ house of the Lord, believe me. It’s a dump.”

“Enough with the vague God references,” Dean snapped.

Gabriel grinned. “That’s really bugging you, isn’t it?”

“Are we going or not?” Sam said.

“Whatever, dude.” Dean shrugged. “I’m staying here. Say hi to Jesus for me.”

A moment later, Sam and Gabriel were gone.

“You not going?” Dean asked Castiel.

“I will remain with you.”

Dean walked over to the table, where half the food was still left (and keeping itself at the correct temperature). He poured himself another glass of wine. Dean didn’t know much about wine, but whatever Gabriel had conjured up was fucking _awesome_.

He leaned on the arm of the couch, next to where Castiel was seated. “So how was your first Christmas?”

“Very nice.”

“Yeah?”

“I enjoyed it a great deal. And you?”

Dean stood, walking over to the tree. “It was good. I’m still getting used to the fact that ‘say hi to Jesus for me’ is something we just _say_ now, but yeah, this was good.”

He turned to the side, looking out a set of French doors that led to the porch. “You know that good memory Sam was talking about? Driving around and looking at lights? Dad did that, told him that, because we didn’t have a place to sleep that night.” Dean finished off his wine and stared out the window.

And then Castiel was right beside him. “Snow reminds me of Heaven.”

“Why?”

“Each piece is unique, yet when grouped together, it becomes one indistinguishable force.”

He was talking about the Host, Dean realized. “Do you… miss being one force?”

Castiel glanced at Dean. “I prefer being unique.”

Castiel opened one of the doors. Dean started to protest, but quickly realized that whatever Gabriel had done, the heat stayed in and the cold stayed out even with the door open.

“Huh,” he said. Dean opened the door on his side, and together they sat down in the doorframe. Castiel was closer to the tree.

“This _is_ nice,” Dean said. “It’d be a change to wake up on Christmas morning in someplace that’s not going to kick you out at noon.”

“We can stay here as long as you like.”

Dean nodded. “I wanted to get you a present,” he said after a moment. “But I couldn’t think of anything you actually wanted or needed. Weapons, clothes, food, money—those are all out. And that’s all me and Sam do. Hell, Gabriel’s even taking care of your cell phone.”

“Gifts are not necessary.” Castiel almost smiled. “And I believe it is the thought that counts.”

“I guess.” Dean shrugged. “You didn’t get me anything, either, so it all works.”

Castiel’s brow creased faintly as he bit his lip.

“Shit, you did get me something,” Dean said. “Now I feel like a dick.”

“Don’t. I told you a gift is not necessary.”

“Well, where is it? What did you get me?”

“It was… this evening,” Castiel said carefully. “I asked for Gabriel’s assistance in giving you what I understand is a traditional Christmas. Something I believe you wanted, but have never had. It was for you and Sam.” A pause. “But mainly you.”

Now he _really_ felt like a dick. Dean looked out at the snow.

“Dean?”

Dean glanced back to Castiel. “It was awesome, Cas. Really. Best Christmas we’ve had, no question. It was great. But—man, you planned all this and I didn’t even buy you a fucking knife.”

“I don’t need a knife,” he said, tilting his head.

“I know,” Dean snapped, more frustrated with himself. “But what am I supposed to do for an angel?”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Castiel said.

“You didn’t _need_ to do all this,” Dean countered.

“I wanted to.”

“Exactly.” 

“Ah,” Castiel said. “Because it’s about giving.”

“Yeah, it is. But I still didn’t want to get you something dumb, something you’d only take cause I wanted you to.”

“I see. Dean—”

There was a disturbance in the room, like someone had arrived via Angel Air. But when Dean glanced behind them, no one was there.

He looked back at Castiel.

Dean blinked, focusing on the space above Castiel’s head. “Uh, Cas?”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Gabriel’s prank has returned.”

“Yeah.”

Floating just above Castiel’s head was the mistletoe.

And something suddenly clicked in Dean’s mind. Like the answer to a question he didn’t even know he’d been asking. And it was the answer to a lot more than how to get rid of magic mistletoe.

“I could probably take care of that for you,” Dean said.

Castiel stared at him, expression blank. “Because of the Christmas gift?”

“No. Just because. Because I want to.” Then he quickly added, “Unless you don’t want me to.”

“I left Heaven for you,” Castiel said simply, like it answered all questions.

“I know. But I don’t have anything, Cas. Just me.”

“I know what you have.”

“And that’s what you want?”

“Yes.” Castiel paused, looking at him intensely. “But Dean, if you don’t, nothing will change.”

“Cas, I think we already changed.”

“I see.” Dean didn’t know how anyone could look so happy without actually smiling, but Castiel managed it. 

“We changed,” Dean said. “And I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“And you are now?”

“Yeah.” Dean closed the distance between them. “I am.”


	21. All That Glitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Castiel gets Dean an unexpectedly awesome birthday present.

“Cas, you don’t have to get me anything. Really.” There wasn’t much Dean needed. There wasn’t anything he wanted.

“I wish to,” Castiel said.

Then he disappeared, effectively ending the conversation.

Dean had already realized that Castiel was set on giving him a birthday present, even though he tried to talk him out of it. It was entirely possible that Castiel would turn up with something thoughtful, yet bizarre and useless. In fact, Dean was kind of betting on it.

When Castiel finally appeared again that evening, Dean was sitting on the couch flipping through channels while Sam was in the shower. Castiel sat down next to him.

He had something in his hand. “For your birthday,” he announced, holding it out.

Dean opened his palm, and Castiel dropped the thing into it. It was a rock. A plain, gray, non-descript rock the size of an egg.

Dean struggled to come up with something to say. Anything to say. He knew Castiel was watching him.

“It’s great, Cas,” he managed. Dean risked a glance at Castiel, only to find him studying Dean with amusement—like he knew everything that was going through Dean’s head. Fuck, he probably did.

“You’re not going to ask me what it is?” Castiel said.

“It’s a rock,” Dean said, not liking the way that came out as uncertain.

The corner of Castiel’s mouth turned up. “It’s a moon rock.”

“This is from the moon?” Dean asked, his eyebrows raising. “Like, actually from the moon?”

“Where else would I get a moon rock?” Castiel asked, frowning slightly.

“I dunno. NASA?”

“What’s NASA?”

“Who cares, you went to the moon to get me a birthday present.” Dean was grinning now, and Castiel was watching him with a pleased expression.

“I thought you might like it.”

“Dude, it’s awesome.” He wasn’t a nerd like Sam, but a rock from outer space was pretty cool. It was bizarre and useless, but _completely fucking awesome_.

At that moment, Sam came out of the bathroom, dressed in sweats and toweling his hair. “Oh. Hey, Cas.”

“Look what Cas got me for my birthday,” Dean said, briefly tossing the rock into the air before catching it again.

“Um.” Sam looked back and forth between Dean and Castiel. He looked at the rock. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?”

“It’s a moon rock,” Dean said. “From the moon.”

Sam’s eyes got huge. He turned to Castiel, asking, “You went to the moon?”

“I told you I can go to space,” Castiel said, like it was nothing.

Sam moved closer to the rock. Not to Dean, but specifically to the rock. “Lemme see.”

“Get your own moon rock,” Dean said, snatching his hand back.

“Should you even be handling that?” Sam asked, rapidly switching gears. “They’re usually specially stored. They’re kept out of air so—”

“Dude, it’s a _rock_.”

“It’s—that’s probably priceless, you know.”

“Probably.” Dean shrugged.

Sam opened his mouth, but then closed it. Finally, he just sat down at the table and opened his laptop. Dean knew without asking that he was looking up moon rocks.

Dean turned the rock over in his palm again. It looked like any other rock.

“It reminded me of you,” Castiel said.

Dean glanced at him, the question obvious without him actually asking it.

Castiel held his gaze for a moment, then said, “It’s more than it appears.”


	22. Days in the Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which laundry is done, fake IDs are made, and there is bickering over a rollaway.

“You two really aren’t that interesting when you’re not killing things, are you?”

“You’re free to leave any time, y’know,” Dean said.

Gabriel made no movement from his spot in the backseat.

“Yesterday you drove fourteen hours straight. _Fourteen_ ,” he emphasized, “hours. straight. Even _Castiel_ got bored with you and disappeared for a few hours in there.”

“I didn’t get bored of Dean. I got bored of driving.”

“And Dean was driving,” Gabriel said. “Whatever. Usually you chuckleheads are good for a laugh, but your lives have become the road trip to nowhere.”

“Things have been slow lately, that’s all,” Sam said.

“I am kind of itching for a good hunt,” Dean admitted.

“Dean, what’s wrong with having some downtime? In fact, we should use the time to do all those things that we never seem to have time to do.”

Dean snorted. “Like what?”

\-----

“Smile, Cas.”

“No, don’t smile. Dean, don’t make him smile.”

“He’s too serious.”

Sam waved a hand at Castiel, who was dutifully standing in front of a sheet they’d pinned up on the wall. “We’re taking photos for _fake government IDs_ , Dean. You’re supposed to look serious.”

“I don’t understand why I need a photo,” Castiel said. But he remained standing where Dean had placed him, watching Dean fiddle with the camera.

“Cas, we’ve talked about this,” Dean said. “Even if me and Sam mostly do the hunts ourselves, you might need to cover for us sometime in an emergency.”

Castiel frowned. “I don’t need an alias to rescue you.”

“I don’t need rescuing!”

Sam snickered.

“What, Sam?” Dean snapped.

“How about that time you pretended to be the deputy in a county that only had one deputy?”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

“They threw you in jail so fast you must have gotten whiplash. Then me _and_ Bobby had to fake being FBI. They barely let us have you.”

“Can we just take the damn pictures?”

Castiel straightened and managed to look appropriately businesslike as Dean snapped a photo.

“Fine,” Dean said. “This’ll work.” He glanced back at Castiel. “Look, this is just what we do. If you don’t play the game right, people get hurt. When humans want something—”

“You lie,” Castiel said. “I remember.” He paused. “Though it would be much more expedient to tell them the truth and then erase their memory.”

“See, now that’s just creepy.”

Castiel looked smug. “But effective.”

\-----

“We must sit here the entire hour?”

“One of us has to, Cas,” Dean said. “Someone could steal the clothes.” He shrugged. “You could have gone on the supply run with Sam.”

“I chose to come with you.” Castiel looked at the laundry that was spinning around in the dryer. “Though this is rather dull,” he pronounced.

“Welcome to Earth.”

“I enjoy Earth.” He paused. “I do not believe, however, that I would enjoy being human.”

“What’s wrong with being human?” Dean said gruffly.

“Nothing,” Castiel said, turning to him. “But I am what I am, and can’t wish to be otherwise.” He tilted his head. “Would you want to be an angel?”

“Hell no.”

“Is there something wrong with being an angel?” Castiel asked, giving Dean a knowing look.

“I get it, I get it,” Dean said. “But what wouldn’t you like about being human?”

Castiel seemed to collect his words. Finally, he said, “I would find it hard to be so constrained by the physical world.”

Dean cleared his throat, glancing away. “You know you don’t have to stick around every single day if we’re… constraining you.”

“You’re not,” he said simply.

“Well, good.”

“Laundry just seems tedious.”

“You know what would make this less tedious?” Dean smirked. “Pizza from Italy. I’d go, but I’m constrained by the physical world.”

“I’ll consider it in a moment,” Castiel said. “Sam told me to make sure you fold his whites.”

\-----

“Not me,” Dean and Sam said at the same time.

“Dude, I was first.”

“No, I was.”

“I believe Dean was,” Castiel said.

Sam made a bitchface. “Of course you’re going to take his side.”

“Don’t accuse Cas of cheating.”

The three of them stood in the motel room, staring at the rollaway that looked like a death trap. The motel had only had one room left—a thing that might as well have been a closet with one double bed in it.

“Dean, I don’t _fit_ on a rollaway,” Sam said, pointing.

“Dude, don’t pull that. You’ve only got two inches on me. I don’t fit, either.”

“Perhaps you could share the double bed,” Castiel said.

“Sam kicks. And snores. And hogs the covers.”

“I do not! Anyway, we still don’t fit.”

“Whatever,” Dean said. “Take the bed, fine. I’ll sleep in the car.”

“Come on, Dean, even a rollaway has to be more comfortable than the car.”

Dean shrugged. “I’ve slept in the car lots of times.”

“Then I guess Cas can have the rollaway.”

“I don’t sleep,” Castiel said.

“Well, if you want to read or something. There’s nowhere else to sit in here.”

“I will keep Dean company in the car.”

Sam threw his hands up. “This is ridiculous,” he said. “We have two beds in here, but two of us are sleeping in the car. Seriously?”

There was a pause.

“Do you wish to sleep in the car?” Castiel asked.

“No.”

“Then Dean and I could have the beds,” Castiel said reasonably.

“Dean and _I_ could have the beds, if he’d just take the rollaway,” Sam said.

Dean regarded the rollaway skeptically. “I’m sleeping in the car.”

\-----

“Where have our brothers got to?”

Sam didn’t even look up when Gabriel appeared. “You can have the rollaway.”

“Yeesh. No thanks.”

Gabriel snapped, and the rollaway became a queen-sized bed that took up every inch of the available floor space. He flopped on it, crossing his arms behind his head as he looked at the TV.

“What you watching?”

“A Discovery Channel show about how Pluto isn’t a planet anymore,” Sam said, bored. Then he said, “What’s up with that, anyway? How can something suddenly not be a planet?”

“Meh. Everything past Saturn is a waste, anyway.”

“Having nine planets sounded cooler. Eight just isn’t as impressive.”

“Have you been drinking?” Gabriel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“There’s nothing else to do. Why are you even here? I thought our lives were boring.”

Gabriel didn’t immediately answer. When he did, he said, “So where are Dean and Castiel?”

Sam snorted. “Sleeping in the car.”

“Huh,” Gabriel said blankly.

“What?”

“Well, they’re not out there now. They must have taken off.”

“Huh,” Sam said. “I guess Dean got Cas to take him somewhere.”

Gabriel huffed. “More like the other way around. I bet Dean would have to be talked _out_ of sleeping in his car.”

“You know why we stay in motels so much, right?” Sam snickered. “Not only are they cheaper, but our room is always _right next_ to the car.”

“Hey, how about I help you make fake IDs,” Gabriel said.

“I think I’ve got that covered.”

“But I can help you make _real_ fake IDs.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam said, unimpressed.

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and the dresser was replaced with something that looked like a complicated Xerox machine.

“That,” he said, “is the official machine from the sheriff’s office.”

Sam sat up, suddenly interested. “Won’t they notice it’s missing?”

“You’d better hurry, then.” Gabriel smirked.

Sam got up, digging through his bag for his laptop.

Gabriel slouched further into his pillows. “Make sure you put something embarrassing on at least one of Dean’s.”

\-----

“Who the fuck is Jacob Augustine?”

“It’s the name I chose for Cas. Since _you_ didn’t seem too enthusiastic about doing anything other than taking his picture.”

Dean made a face. “Agent Augustine? Really? That rolls right off your tongue.”

“Hey, just be glad he didn’t end up Agent Angel, like Gabriel wanted.”

“Gabriel was here?”

“For a while.”

Dean handed the ID to Castiel, who inspected it like he knew he should look at it, but wasn’t sure what he was actually looking for. At least he was holding it right side up this time.

“Constantine would have been better,” Dean said. “Where do you even come up with Augustine?”

“It’s a saint’s name,” Castiel said.

Dean looked over the handful of IDs Sam had made for him. Then he frowned, pausing on one. “Sam. Why the fuck does this say I’m 5’11”?” 

Sam snickered. “Maybe you should make your own next time. And you can pick out whatever name you want for Cas.”

“I prefer the name Castiel,” Castiel said.

“Cas, it’s a _fake ID_ ,” Dean said. “And if you’re lying anyway, it doesn’t matter what your name is.”

“Then why couldn’t I use Castiel?” he asked, puzzled.

“Cause you don’t want to give people a reason to remember you or a way to track you down.”

“I see.” He tucked the fake ID into his pocket. “So in any situation where you were incarcerated, I must pretend to be human.” 

“It would be helpful,” Sam said.

“Despite the fact that I could retrieve you from a cell without appearing myself.”

“Dude, we’re already legally dead escaped felons,” Dean said. “The last thing we need on top of that is one of us disappearing on tape.”

“I understand,” Castiel said seriously. “I should short out all electronics beforehand, then.”

“That—actually isn’t half bad,” Dean said after a pause. “Fine. But none of that bleeding eardrums shit, you got it?”


	23. Angels We Have Heard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the credit card is refused at the inn, the Winchesters run out of gas in the desert, and the Messenger arrives to take them to the house of the Lord. Classics are watched, a tree is cut down, and Sam finally asks what’s up with Dean and Castiel.

“What do you mean, rejected?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but it won’t run.”

Dean leaned on the motel counter, giving the woman a charming smile. “I know I haven’t reached my limit. Can you run it again?”

Sam spoke up from behind him. “Here, put it on mine.”

The clerk took the card and swiped it. “I’m sorry, this one has a hold on it as well.”

“Look here—”

“Just give us a minute,” Sam said, pulling on Dean’s arm.

They moved a short distance away. “Dude, do you have any cash?” Sam asked.

“Eight bucks. Let’s just put it on a different card.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, neither of us can just go hand her another card that has a _different name_ on it.”

“Fine!” Dean hissed. “Fine. Let’s go somewhere else and do it there. The next town can’t be that far.”

Sam nodded. “Sorry to bother you,” he said as they left.

As they both got back in the car, Castiel asked, “Are we not stopping for the night?”

“Not here, apparently,” Dean said.

He turned up the radio and started to drive.

It was almost an hour later that Sam said, “Why haven’t we hit a town yet? There should have been another town or two before we got this far out.”

“You should have turned at the last road we passed, Dean,” Castiel said.

Sam turned around. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Castiel frowned. “I did. You were on the phone checking your card balances.”

“Why didn’t you listen to him, Dean?”

“It’s not like he had a map.”

“I don’t need a map,” Castiel said.

“Great,” Sam said. “We’re lost in the desert because you refused to listen to the GPS angel in the backseat.”

“We’re not lost! We just… missed the turnoff to the town.”

Sam didn’t reply.

An hour later, they still hadn’t hit another town. Upon questioning Castiel, Sam learned that they were still miles from any town.

“We just _had_ to be in Arizona when this started, didn’t we?” Sam blurted. “We finally get to a place to stop for the night, but wait, our credit cards are refused.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“So now we’re driving to nowhere,” Sam continued.

“You sure get bitchy past your bedtime, you know that?”

The Impala suddenly sputtered, and Dean felt it start to decelerate. “No, no, no,” he growled, hitting the steering wheel.

“ _What_?” Sam asked dangerously.

The car slowed to a stop.

“We’re out of gas,” Dean said.

“Naturally.”

“Calm down, Samantha, we’ve got a gallon in the trunk.”

They all got out of the car. The desert was creepy at night, Dean thought. Weirdly, Castiel looked right at home.

Dean opened the trunk. The gas can was way too light when he picked it up. “Why is this empty?” he barked.

“I don’t know. Oh. We ran out of lighter fluid on that salt and burn last week.”

“Perfect,” Dean said, chucking it back in the trunk.

“So we’re stuck out here. Nice, Dean.”

“I can take you anywhere you wish to go,” Castiel pointed out.

“Can you take the car?” Dean asked.

“No.”

“So we’ll leave the car and come back tomorrow,” Sam said.

“I’m not leaving my baby in the desert.”

“Dean, there’s _no one_ out here! It’ll be fine.”

“Cas, take Sam wherever he wants. But I’m staying here.”

“Do you even have water?” Sam asked.

“We’ve got a gallon.”

Sam suddenly brightened. “Hey, Cas, you can’t turn that into gas, can you?”

Castiel shook his head. “No.” He paused. “Though I could turn it into wine, if you’d like.”

Dean got a contemplative look on his face.

“Dean!” Sam said.

“Well, if I’m stuck out here, I might as well have a good time.”

Sam took a deep breath. “Why don’t you and Cas take the gas can and fill it up somewhere?”

“At one in the morning? On Christmas Eve?”

“Technically,” Castiel said, “It is Christmas Day.”

“Somewhere has to be open,” Sam said. “Hit a city.”

“Would a gallon of gasoline get you to the next town?” Castiel asked.

“No,” Dean said.

“Then we would have to repeat the process.”

“That’s it, I’m calling Gabriel.”

“Damn it, Sam!”

“I want to _sleep_ sometime tonight, Dean.” Sam pulled out his phone. After a moment, his face tightened. “I don’t have a signal.”

“Neither do I,” Dean said, checking.

“I do,” Castiel said.

“Dude, _how_?”

“I… don’t know,” Castiel said. He pushed the button to call Gabriel. “Gabriel. We could use your assistance.” He paused as Gabriel said something. “No. Dean is out of gas.”

Gabriel appeared a second later and promptly burst into laughter.

“This is _priceless_ ,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, ha ha,” Dean said. He slammed the trunk.

Gabriel shook his head. “Honestly, how have you two managed to survive for so long?”

Sam cleared his throat. “Can you fill up the tank?”

“Sure. Piece of cake.” He shrugged, then grinned. “But I’ve got a better idea.”

“Oh, God,” Dean said.

“You have no idea.”

“Well?” Sam said.

“It’s Christmas. We should do our thing again. And I’ve got the perfect place to go.”

“I guess that wouldn’t be bad,” Sam said. “But where?”

Gabriel snapped his fingers before Dean could say anything, and Dean found himself inside a house. It took him a moment to place it.

“Is this Chuck’s?” Sam asked.

“Bingo.”

Dean didn’t see any sign of Chuck. But there was a longhaired guy wearing a bathrobe standing on the stairs.

“Did you bring me presents?” he asked.

Dean was too thrown by the question to even ask who he was. “Why the hell would we have presents?”

Bathrobe guy crossed his arms. “There’s three of you, and an angel brought you,” he said, apathetic. “Presents is usually what happens next.”

Sam grabbed Dean’s arm. “Dean, that’s—”

“You. Back upstairs,” Gabriel said, pointing. “Sleep it off.”

“Fine,” the guy grumbled. “But get me some fucking myrrh.”

He turned around and slowly clomped back up the stairs.

Dean shook off Sam, whose grip had turned hard. “Dude, _what_?”

“That was _Jesus_.”

“You’re shitting me.”

Sam shook his head.

“ _That guy_?” Dean eyed Gabriel. “This is some sort of joke, right?”

“That was Jesus,” Castiel confirmed.

A second later, Dean laughed. “Weed smoking hippie. What did I tell you?”

Sam turned to Gabriel. “He wasn’t like that last year.”

“Mood swings,” Gabriel said, shrugging. “You never know how he’s going to be this time of year.”

“Guess no trip to see the Pope this time, huh, Sammy?” Dean said. Then, “But why is he _here_?”

“Family reunion.”

“With you?” Sam asked, frowning.

“Something like that,” Gabriel said. “Now. You chuckleheads need to go get a tree.”

“Where’s Chuck?” Dean asked.

“On vacation. He took his girlfriend. I’m using the place in the mean time.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Does he know?”

“Well, not _technically_.”

“And where the hell is my car?”

“Relax, it’s in the street,” Gabriel said. “So. Christmas tree.” He snapped, and handed Dean an axe and Sam a saw. “You need to go get one.”

“From where?” Dean asked.

“From where I’m about to send you.”

“Like hell.”

Sam, however, had suddenly perked up. Clearly the idea of stomping around in the woods and cutting down his own Christmas tree had awakened his inner six-year-old. He turned to Dean with a puppy look.

“Fine,” Dean grumbled. “Cas?”

“I will… get the myrrh.”

Dean gave Gabriel a pointed look as he replied to Castiel. “Pick up some extra holy oil, too. Never know when it might come in handy.”

Gabriel glared.

“Understood,” Castiel said. He disappeared.

“Ready?” Gabriel asked them.

“Fine,” Dean said. “But I don’t need an axe to cut down a little tree.”

“I know. Watch out for bears!”

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and then Dean and Sam were in the middle of a forest. There was a half a foot of snow on the ground, and it was easy enough to see with the moonlight reflecting off the whiteness.

“Where do you think we are?” Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. “Some place up north. What the fuck did he mean, watch out for bears?”

“There are lots of pine trees,” Sam said, looking around. “We just need to find one the right size.”

It didn’t take them long to find a good, full tree that was just slightly taller than Sam. As they worked at cutting it down, Sam said:

“Something changed with you and Cas.”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “It did.”

“It took me a while to catch on.” He paused. “You don’t act any differently.”

“Should we be?”

“No. I mean, it’s just— I guess most people do when—” Sam sighed. “You know you don’t have to hide anything from me, right?”

“I know.” Dean straightened, looking at Sam. “And I know I should’ve told you, but it never seemed to come up.” He shrugged. “But this is how we are, whether you’re around or not.”

Sam didn’t say anything, but gave Dean a doubtful look.

“He’s him, I’m me, why do you expect us to be different together? What, you think we’re gonna start holding hands and calling each other ‘honey’ or some shit?”

“No,” Sam said. “Dean, I’m not mad. Just, you don’t have to act like nothing’s going on.”

“There’s not an act with Cas.” Dean chuckled. “That’s kind of the point. It’s not like I expected it to happen, but then there it was. And here we are.”

Sam was silent for a moment. “You two really get each other, don’t you?”

“Okay, I’m not having a conversation where we talk about how much someone ‘gets’ me.” Dean picked up the axe again.

“I’m happy for you,” Sam said sincerely. Then he added, “But I started seeing through that ‘I’m gonna sleep in the car tonight’ line a long time ago.”

Dean grunted.

“You go to the car, Cas follows you, and neither of you are in the car later.”

“Dude, just get to sawing.”

They finished cutting down the tree, only to discover that their phones of course had no signals. But Gabriel was obviously keeping tabs on them, because when Sam shouted, “Okay, we’re done already!” they found themselves back in Chuck’s living room.

Sam stood the tree in an empty corner by the television. Gabriel was planted in the middle of the couch, flipping through channels with the remote. Castiel sat on one end, reading a book.

Dean flopped in an armchair. “What you got, Cas?”

“The prophet’s Word.” 

Dean groaned. “You’re reading those things again?”

“This is a new volume.”

“Wait,” Sam said. “They’re publishing more?”

“Yep,” Gabriel said.

Castiel didn’t look up from the book. “I have just rescued you from Hell.”

“Big entrance in the barn, huh?” Dean asked. “Yeah, that was fun.”

Castiel frowned. “However, I do not believe my coat flaps behind me like ‘the wings of a great and terrible bird.’”

“Purple prose,” Sam whispered. He opened the box on the floor marked XMAS and then started winding an old string of lights around the tree.

“Personally,” Gabriel said. “I can’t wait to see myself in print again.”

“I thought you hated that,” Sam said.

“But this is _true_. It’s like the Bible 2.0.”

“Yeah, fantastic,” Dean muttered.

“Christmas dinner?” Gabriel questioned, glancing at them.

“Tomorrow,” Sam said.

“How about Christmas dessert?” Dean asked.

Gabriel snapped, and pie, sugar cookies, and caramel popcorn appeared. Dean reached for the pie. Sam continued decorating the tree (since that was obviously his thing), but it didn’t take long for Chuck’s meager amount of ornaments to all be hung.

Sam sat down on the couch on the other side of Gabriel, snagging the caramel corn from the table. Gabriel was still aimlessly flipping through channels. He finally stopped when he came across the last half of _It’s a Wonderful Life_.

They watched the movie in silence, each of them munching on something except Castiel, who had eaten one cookie and no more.

After the credits had rolled, Dean said, “You know what? This movie creeps me out now.”

“Why?” Gabriel asked.

“Cause that’s something you dicks would actually do. Erase some poor schmuck from existence and then let him stumble around in his not-life just to make a point.”

Castiel stared at the television. “Clarence had to complete his mission. And he was helpful to George in the end.”

“Oh, yeah. He showed him something even worse to let him know how good he’s supposedly got it. Just like Zachariah and my trip to _Back to The Future, Part II_.”

Gabriel snorted. “Someone has unresolved issues.”

“I’m just saying,” Dean said.

“I wonder what it would be like if we hadn’t been born,” Sam suddenly said.

“That was a question in TV Land,” Gabriel muttered.

“The one I got hit in the nuts for?” he asked, glaring.

“No.” Gabriel snickered. “The one Dean didn’t get hit in the nuts for.”

Castiel spoke. “The Apocalypse would not have been stopped if you weren’t here.”

“But it also wouldn’t have started,” Sam said.

“Paradox,” Gabriel said.

Sam frowned. “That’s not a paradox.”

“Oh, fine. Picky, picky.” Gabriel pursed his lips. “The Apocalypse was always on the table, though. If it hadn’t been you to start it, it would have been someone else eventually. But you put an end to it. For good.”

“Precisely,” Castiel said. Then he added, “All the people you have saved would not be here.”

“But all the people you’ve gotten killed would still be here,” Gabriel said brightly. “It balances out.”

Sam gave him a pissy look. “And what things be like if _you_ hadn’t been born?”

“Well, you’d still have dinosaurs, for one.”

“Okay, what is up with that?” Sam asked, throwing his hands up. “Either just say it, or stop mentioning it.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “You really wanna know?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Gabriel stood. “Okay.”

“Really?” Sam asked, skeptical.

“Sure, why not? ’Tis the season. Jesus has been bugging me for the story for a while now anyway. C’mon.”

Sam moved to follow Gabriel up the stairs, shooting a questioning look at Dean as he left.

“Whatever, dude,” Dean said. “Knock yourself out.”

He and Castiel sat in an easy silence.

Several minutes passed. The TV was off, and Dean found himself staring at the tree.

“If you had not been born, I would not be who I am today,” Castiel said. “I owe that to you, and you alone.”

Dean turned to look at him. “Hey, Sam was the one going on about not existing, not me.”

“Still. I wanted you to know.”

Dean wordlessly got to his feet. He sat down next to Castiel on the couch, close enough that their shoulders touched.

“I know, Cas.” 

Castiel looked at the tree. Dean’s eyes followed.

“It’s been a year,” Dean said. 

“Yes.”

A year since things had changed between them. 

“You’re important to me,” Dean blurted.

“I know,” Castiel said simply.

Dean chuckled. “I’ve never told you.”

“Actions speak louder than words.” Then Castiel gave him a sly look. “Besides, I can see into your soul.”

Dean laughed, nudging Castiel with his shoulder. “Benefit of dating an angel, huh? No need for sappy declarations. Awesome.”

“Sappy declarations are not you. Why would I want them?”

Dean shrugged. “Based on experience, humans like to hear that stuff.”

“I am not human.”

“Believe me, I know.”

The corner of Castiel’s mouth turned up. “We seem to know a lot,” he commented.

Dean smiled. “I’d say we’re doing pretty good, then.”

“Yes.”

There were suddenly footsteps in the front hallway, and they both turned to look.

“What are you doing here?” Chuck asked. “Why are you in my house?”

Dean stood. “Gabriel brought us. He said you were on vacation.”

“I was. Am. I, uh, I just came by to get a few things.”

“From the Caribbean?” Gabriel asked, as if appearing on cue. He sauntered down the stairs, Jesus and Sam trailing behind him. “You must get awesome frequent flyer miles.”

Chuck glowered when he saw Jesus, but didn’t say anything.

Jesus gave him a lazy grin. “Hey, Dad.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“ _Dad_?” Dean asked.

“Wait,” Sam said. “Does that mean—?”

Gabriel smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Merry Christmas!”

 

_—the end_


End file.
